To Hell And Back
by sonacroi
Summary: Set during Season 4.5 (and carries through to the Season 6 finale) - Zelena is pregnant with Robin's baby...but it should have been Regina. And maybe Henry can fix that, and finally give his mom the happy ending she deserves. OQ endgame. Lots of cannon dialogue because this is a fix-it fic! Regina/Zelena, Regina/Robin, Regina/Snow, Regina/Henry, Henry/Emma, Robin/Zelena
1. Chapter 1

"Do you want to tell her? Or shall I?"

Zelena's words, her tauntingly melodic brogue, rung in Regina's ears and had been torturing her for days. They echoed off of the walls of her empty home, thundered from deep within her empty bed, and screeched and screamed like white hot fire every time her sister's name was mentioned.

Returning to Storybrooke was only moderately comforting. Yes, she was back home, with her son, and with Robin and Roland. The coldness of New York, and the sting of heartbreak and unshed tears could be briefly forgotten amidst daily tasks like preparing supper, or hurling fireballs at the town's latest and greatest threats. But there was a near constant ache deep in her soul every time she looked at him - because she could imagine a baby with his dimples and his steely blue eyes. She would hold his hand and imagine five small, perfect fingers wrapping around a single digit, his skin rough against hers. Hers?

Regina winced, having been unprepared to imagine any gender in particular. She swallowed against the rapidly rising nausea and set her knife down on the cutting board, abandoning her peppers and her work. A girl. It would be a girl, too, wouldn't it? Because she knew life to be cruel, fate brutal and punishing. She closed her eyes tightly and turned away from the counter, leaning her elbows onto the kitchen island and sinking down, burying her face in her hands. She gritted her teeth in anguish, trying to push the image of her true love holding the baby that wasn't hers, could never be hers — Zelena's baby. Her frustration and sorrow came out in a deep groan as she lifted herself up again, palms splaying against the crisp white marble and gripping the edges of the counter top as if that were the only thing holding her to this earth. Letting out a sigh and blinking away tears she refused to let fall, Regina silently cursed her sister — again — this time, for ruining even the simple joy of making lasagna.

The morning they had all arrived back in Storybrooke (and oh, how Regina wished she could have been a passenger in that stupid yellow bug that morning instead of driving the minivan with Zelena riding shotgun and Robin and Roland in the middle seats. For all the times she poked at Emma for her terrible taste in cars, or complained that a Queen should never have to be reduced to sitting with legs twisted for lack of space, she would have given anything to enjoy the comfort of awkward conversation with the Saivor over the side glances to Zelena's middle she couldn't seem to avoid), Regina had Zelena confined to the basement of the hospital, to be watched over by Nurse Ratchet, and given care by Doctor Whale. It was the safest place she could think of for everyone involved. The enchanted cuff to block Zelena's magic was the equivalent of a fourth deadbolt on panic room door. But every precaution needed to be taken.

"The perfect temporary home," Regina promised with a smile, quickly turning her face away, content to lock the door before her sister could utter another word. As proficient as she was at masking any underlying emotion, this particular scenario was trying her. The cracks in her armor were ever present in her thoughts.

"This home is temporary. But me being in your life is not," Zelena chided with a sickening grin.

"Because this…" she sang in false sweetness, her hands smoothing over her middle, tugging over her blouse just enough to reveal a soft curve, "…means forever," she whispered, her eyes going wide and wild as she giggled triumphantly.

Regina nearly faltered. She forced her eyes away from the evidence of Zelena's pregnancy and fixed on her face, rage rising in her chest. Two could play at that game. She'd had her share of wild and crazed in the height of her days as the Evil Queen.

"You want to talk truth? Tell me. What's going to make you feel safe at night once that baby's born?" she asked, gritting her teeth at having to speak it out loud. The baby. Once the baby is born. It felt as though the very act of the words passing over her lips was breathing life into this invisible third party. Her lip twitched into a snarl and her eyes narrowed as she steeled herself for the hundredth time that day.

"The fact that if you kill me, Robin will always know that you murdered the mother of his child," Zelena snapped back, her teeth glittering in her smile like a wolf taunting its prey.

"You underestimate me, Zelena," Regina replied, her brow arching upwards, a calm smile spreading over her features. "Enjoy your new home."

Stepping out of the cell, she closed the door and bolted it, then stood back, arms lifting high as she cast an enchantment over the doorway. She was vaguely aware of another presence in the hall, and turned to acknowledge the silent man mopping the floors. She could hardly see his face beneath long, inky black hair, but she offered a nod and an insincere smile before taking off down the hall, the clip-clop of her heels failing to drown out the echo of her own last words to Zelena.

Rounding the corner, she punched in the code to the coded door and flung it open, her hands shaking and lips trembling. Her lungs burned as she struggled to gulp down air, and she stopped just short of the first step in the locked stairwell, the door slamming shut behind her. She stumbled to the side, backing herself up against the cold concrete wall. "You underestimate me, Zelena." It was an empty threat. And a weak one, at that. There was nothing she could do. She was on a new path now — one that she couldn't turn away from. Robin had fallen in love with her because he saw more to her than her monicker. He saw potential for good.

Her hands spread away from her sides, palms opening against the cold, rough walls as her head tilted back, eyes slipping closed. A slow exhale passed through pursed lips as she tried to steady and center herself. But that familiar ache returned. Regina's deep brown eyes opened, glassy with tears. Her hand moved to her chest, whimpering as the physical pain of heartbreak settled deep within. Her thoughts went to Robin — his bright, smiling eyes and lopsided grin. The warmth of his arms around her, his hand on her hip. His palms at her waist, lifting her up. A white tank against a crimson blouse, deep in her vault, protected, safe. Hours upon hours of feeling his love.

Tears were flowing freely now, rolling down Regina's cheeks. The hand at her chest slowly began to descend. She bit her lip as her palm met with her own abdomen — barren, empty. She would never carry his child. She pressed her palm inward until it hurt, until she tasted copper. Curling in on herself, Regina leaned into the wall and slowly sunk down to the floor. She was a Queen — barren, and empty, and broken.

* * *

There had been a moment, after many, many hours of painful memories, her mind trying to sort through the hell of possible futures with Zelena in Robin's life and hers, where she'd thought she'd reached a solution. In her eagerness to rid herself of the human obstacle to her happiness that was her sister, Regina's devised plan was incomplete at best. She rounded up the Author, and forcefully took blood from Maleficent's daughter, Lily, to power the ink with the darkness required for the spells to work. With Henry's book tucked safely under her arm, she and Isaac paid a visit to Zelena's cell. They would erase her sister from the story, from their lives, entirely. For a brief moment, it seemed like a perfect answer to a perfectly horrible problem.

Ignoring the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach at the fact that she had deliberately avoided Robin all day in order to carry out her motives, Regina handed the book and the vile to Isaac and explained exactly what this plan entailed to an increasingly terrified Zelena. Justification was easy - if no one had any memory of Zelena, erasing her wouldn't really hurt anyone. And not long ago, it had been Zelena's plan to erase Regina from history, bringing everyone back in time to prevent her birth. Perfect. Perfect plan. She hoped this repetition would convince her conscience, and quickly.

"I never knew our mother. But I imagine I'm getting to know her right now," Zelena said softly, failing to hide the fear in her eyes, her own brokenness shining through. "You are exactly like her." she spat.

It wasn't difficult to conjure memories of her mother. Regina's eyes moved over her sister's frame where she stood, flooded with the memory of every horror she ever endured under her mother's care. Taking a breath in, sharper and more audible than she intended, Regina remembered the day she had taken the potion which robbed her of her ability to bear children. She tossed the goblet up to her lips and drank the sickly sweet liquid with defiance in her eyes, convinced she had thwarted another of Cora's plots to masterfully manipulate every life around her. It had burned going down. Even now, Regina could feel it — slinking down her throat, circling in her stomach, then oozing out and settling in her womb. It was indescribable. Like breathing in burning smoke, only the smoke is the most vile of poisons, and it burns like a hot knife, cutting into and ravaging her.

Even then, she never showed the pain she was in. A quiet, stifled whimper as she sunk down onto the couch was all. Blinking, Regina was pulled from her thoughts and back into the cell, back in front of Zelena, in front of a life that would never fully be hers.

"So…what do you want me to do? Isaac asked with more than a little annoyance in his voice.

"Nothing," Regina resigned, her features softening. "You didn't know our mother. But I did. And we both suffered. Our worst enemy isn't her. Or each other. It's ourselves," she spoke with gentle conviction, though it was clear that she was just coming to the realization herself.

"Regina."

His voice was like a cooling salve on that old, aching wound. It sent a shiver down her spine, and she was quickly lost in the scent of him as he pressed himself to her side. She leaned into him, her hand taking hold of the fabric of his jacket, and she breathed him in.

"Is everything alright? I've been looking all over for you," Robin crooned, his brow furrowed with genuine concern, his eyes locked on Regina's as his hand slid up against her back, rubbing in soothing circles.

"Everything's fine," she promised softly, the first semblance of peace settling over her features since this all began. She smiled, and he believed it. "I'm so tired of standing in the way of my own happiness. And I'm not going to do it anymore," she promised. Determination was in her gaze once more. But this time, there was something else. There was hope.

Regina would privately count this a victory. She didn't give into her darkness. Even two years ago, she would have acted on impulse and been immediately rewarded with no Zelena, no baby, no complication. However, her own history had taught her she would likely be reaping the unintended consequences of no complications for decades to come. Making the right choice always seemed so much easier when Robin was by her side.


	2. Chapter 2

Ultrasounds were a new cruelty, a product of the modern world Regina had cursed them all to. She did have an incredible proclivity to hurt herself in the deepest, most unintended ways. That thought earned her a dark chuckle as she blinked her burning eyes, staring at the small square of paper in Robin's hands. It all felt so stupid, because it was nothing. It was paper. And ink. (But then, what were any of their lives but stories in a book - paper and ink. And they weren't nothing.) But if she squinted even slightly, she could see it was far from nothing. The smallest outline of a crude sketch of a child. His child.

"She may have your nose," Regina offered with a smile, but the crack in her voice gave her away, forced him to look away from the image of his child and up into her dark eyes.

But what could he say? What words of comfort could he offer? Nothing was easy. Instead, he offered his own sad smile and turned to look back at the photo.

"Unfortunate for her," he replied grimly, a smile still lingering on his lips. Humor didn't have a place here. Not in this scenario.

Granny's Diner was crowded, but the booth felt private enough, and it's not as though any of this was a secret. Leroy had spotted them moving Zelena through the back entrance to the hospital, knowing fully well where those doors led. It didn't take long for rumors to fly through town, and then, to be confirmed.

Keenly aware of the heaviness of this, and in particular what it meant to Regina, Robin moved his hand to her knee beneath the table, squeezing gently. He set the photo down on the table, abandoning it to move his attention back to his love.

"Regina."

"Don't. You don't have to. You're not — this isn't.." she began, shaking her head and avoiding his gaze. "It's complicated. And neither of us is at fault." For once, she thought to herself. "We just have to…make the best out of a really, really horrible scenario," she laughed in the way you laugh when life kicks you in the teeth.

Any further conversation on the subject would be best had in the privacy of her home, where she could let her guards down, and there was no fear of a rogue tear escaping its prison and alerting the general public to the fact that Regina Mills was, in fact, a human with a soul and emotions. No. She couldn't have that. Even now, on the road to redemption. A select few were privy to her weaknesses (mainly Robin, Henry, Emma and Snow) and even that was too many.

She lifted her coffee mug between two hands and tried not to look at the stains of a thousand previous customers left behind. Closing her eyes, she let out a soft sigh as she brought the ceramic to her lips, drinking slowly — then a bit quicker when she remembered that Granny's coffee had likely been sitting in the pot since early that morning, slowly burning itself into a thick bitter brew. Blanching at the taste, she set the mug back down and pushed it slightly away. It was at least less offensive than what passed for coffee in Camelot.

Camelot. That little side trip had come with its own set of problems, most obviously that Emma was the Dark One and they had yet to understand fully just how they'd failed her. Their memories were gone — that much they knew. Six weeks were lost to them entirely, and were it not for the little lump (a rapidly growing one at that) below her sister's navel, Regina would have counted missing time as a blessing. Because six weeks of no memories meant she could imagine six weeks passing without this heaviness in her soul. The thought made her laugh as she twisted the small jeweled ring around her index finger. Heaviness felt wrong. Because what she truly felt was emptiness. An empty pit in her middle where a child never would be.

"What's funny?" Robin asked, his tone free of accusation or anger — just his genuine quizzical nature, his desire to know her every thought (and her every worry, insecurity, joy, and every other emotion she was so used to keeping to herself).

"Just…the irony of it all," she replied, turning to look into his eyes, a smile on her lips — one that was neither happy nor concealing anger. She shook her head and lifted her hand to tuck a lock of dark hair behind her ear.

"Can we go somewhere else," she asked, suddenly feeling stifled by the low hum of chatter around them.

"Of course," he replied, withholding the second half of that, feeling that 'mi'lady' was just a bit too playful under these circumstances.

They left Granny's without a word (and without paying the bill), and walked without thought to any particular direction, but ended up in a very predictable place. Eyeing the bench in front of the pond, Regina led Robin by the hand, walking slowly and silently along the path. Sitting in silence, Regina pulled her coat tightly across her chest, her fingers running along the collar, gaze fixed on the muddy waters.

A week earlier, they'd been in this very spot, Regina rescuing Robin from the Harpy who'd set its sights on his soul. "Popular guy", she thought to herself as she felt his arm go around her shoulders, pulling her in.

Alone here, with Robin, her walls could come down easily. He had that effect on her.

"I can't have children," she said quietly, the admission difficult to speak aloud — even to him. Maybe especially to him. She could feel his eyes on her now, and she could imagine his brow furrowed in concern and in willingness to hear about darker times in her life. She kept her gaze on the water, knowing that to see him now would break her. His silence begged her to continue.

"My — Cora," she said, deliberate in not using the title 'mother'. She didn't deserve it. Especially not here. Not now.

"Back in the Enchanted Forest. When I was younger. Tinkerbell had already shown me the possibility in you. And I ran from it. But time passed, and the King was dead, and…Cora, for her own motives, found a man to pretend to be you. To be the 'Man with the Lion Tattoo'," she laughed sadly, the moniker so weighty, so fated. "I hadn't seen your face that night at the tavern. I didn't know any better. Until I did."

"He didn't feel like a soulmate. And I think, had I not been so desperate for love initially, I could have seen that right from the start," she shrugged, this admission almost too much. Regina Mills was desperate for nothing.

"He explained…after some prodding," she remembered, unable to help but smirk at the memory — because if nothing else, she was creative in her magic and getting people to talk — "that Cora wanted me to have a child. He didn't know why. And it didn't matter. If she wanted it, I couldn't let it happen," she said softly. And she knew he understood. He had heard enough tales, had seen the fruit of her manipulations.

"I took a potion." Her voice cracked, and before she had the chance to pull away he was bringing her in closer, his arms strong and steady around her. It was enough to break her resolve, and she became suddenly aware of her own tears, first warm and then cold as the salt evaporated on her cheeks.

"Regina," Robin whispered, shifting in his place so that he could bring her in against him, letting her head come to rest on his chest, his chin perched atop her head, tucking her in fully. He understood now. He understood that this was an additional layer of complexity on top of an already ludicrous situation.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and he knew it wasn't enough. As soon as he spoke it, he felt a twinge of regret because those words were meaningless against the years of pain she had endured, and the lifetime ahead — of watching his child grow, knowing she could never share it with him fully.

"I know."

And she did. She knew what he meant. And she knew he hated saying it. And she could care a little bit less from this place against his chest, her hand resting just below his shoulder, fingertips running against the thick scratchy wool of his coat. It was in stark contrast to the soft, almost velvety fibers of his scarf. And comforting textures were nothing against his smell. Like earth and wind and campfire and pine. Like home.


	3. Chapter 3

"This isn't fair." Henry's understanding of the circumstances surrounding the unwanted love triangle of his mother, aunt and Robin was lacking to say the least. It wasn't that he was unaware. More that his tunnel vision regarding his mother's happiness prevented him from seeing anything but her suffering.

In the large living room of his childhood home, Henry paced in front of the fireplace, crackling and popping to fill in the long gaps of silence.

"Life isn't always fair, Henry," Regina reminded him gently. And that was a statement which wasn't reserved just for her — or even for the citizens of Storybrooke alone. Life wasn't fair no matter who you were, no matter the realm.

She sat close to Robin on the couch, her legs crossed and his hand on her knee, her eyes following her son as he processed the unhappy realization that this was something he couldn't fix.

"What's the point of being the Author if I can't do anything to help. These powers are worthless," he grumbled angrily.

"Henry," Regina breathed out sadly, standing and crossing the room to lay a hand against his back, comforting him as much as he had wanted to comfort her.

"Even if you could use them…there's nothing to do. Magic or not, sometimes you just have to let things play out," she explained softly. Years of holding on to 'what if's' and 'could have's' had taught her that much.

Henry knew his mother better than to push it. He nodded, and said nothing. But Operation: Dingo was already forming in his mind. That baby should have been his mother's. It should have — and he would make things right.

* * *

Emma had resisted at first. In fact, he had to trick her to even get her out of the house and away from whatever it was she was guarding in her basement. Under the guise of a runaway horse belonging to his first and current crush, Violet, he lured Emma away from the constant patrol of her own secret to try and talk her into helping him with his.

"My mom can't know," he began, knowing that only half of Emma would be hesitant to keep things from Regina — even as the Dark One, she had a keen understanding of her responsibility as a co-parent and more-so, a friend. The other half of her, he knew, would leap at the chance to spend time with him. He'd been avoiding her as of late, thanks to her dark transformation, and working covertly on another operation would no doubt flood her with memories of happier, simpler times. When the Savior was just the Savior — good was good, and evil was evil — and Darkness didn't have a place in her heart.

In the middle of an open field, Henry holding the reins of Violet's horse, whose location he'd known all along, mother and son spoke somewhat openly — as open as they had been since she'd returned them to Storybrooke, minus a few weeks of memory.

"Regina's not that easy to sneak around, Henry."

Henry. The way she says his name sends a chill through his bones. Because his mother — Emma, and just Emma, not this new bleached and brooding version — would have called him 'kid'.

"I know, but she's pretty… distracted at the moment," he explained, and it pained him because it was true. Once upon a time he wouldn't have been able to get out of the house to talk to Emma at all without her knowing. But here they were.

"Okay," Emma agreed, her lips tight and eyes narrow. She nodded for him to go on. She would hear him out at the very least.

"Zelena shouldn't be having Robin's baby. It should be my mom. It's not fair. She's done so much to change. And every time she makes the right choice, it seems to hurt her in the end. But this… I've never seen her like this. This is worse, somehow." His eyes lowered and he kicked at the dirt beneath his sneakers, clenching his jaw and trying to forget the way Regina looked with tears in her eyes — because he had only ever known her as strong. Bulletproof.

Emma's lips parted as if to speak and she rolled her eyes to the side, crossing her arms over her chest, the thick leather of her long black overcoat squeaking and crinkling. "Henry," she began, her tone hesitant, like she knew where this was headed.

"Don't," Henry begged, his eyes moving to his blonde mother once more. And the longer he looked at her, the more Emma he saw, and the less Dark One.

"I'm not a kid anymore. And maybe I don't get everything. Maybe I don't know the whole story. But I know enough to know she deserves this. And Zelena doesn't. What she did to Robin…" he began, his face puckering in disgust — but mostly in pain on his mother's behalf.

"I have a plan. I know what I need to do. But I need your help."

* * *

If Regina didn't want Henry in her vault, she wouldn't have allowed him to pass through the enchantment that kept everyone else out. At least, that's what he was telling himself. Descending the crumbling, dusty stone steps with practiced ease — because he had been down here hundreds of times with her — his hand dragged along the wall at his side. It was significantly darker and he realized his mother always used her magic to light the candles and torches when they were together.

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he flicked his thumb upwards, turning on the flashlight. It wasn't much, but it was enough. He knew what he was looking for, and he knew where it would be.

Crossing the small room, he tripped over a stack of books, likely left out from the last time someone was down there — when Regina was working with Snow and Charming to cast the spell with the Crimson Crown, hoping to speak to Merlin. Crouching down to set them right again, he stepped cautiously over towards the back wall. The large trunk was full of deep jewel colored gowns of silks and satins, lace and beading and gems beneath his fingers as he felt down deep. His lips pulled into a smile when his hand finally made contact with the book. Small for a spell book, but Cora was always practical that way. Magic hadn't come easily to her. She had to be trained at length, and even then, she required the written word to do much (in the beginning, at least). In any case, it's compact size was serving him well now. "Thanks, Grandma Cora," he spoke aloud, his smile only growing as he pulled the silver inlaid book up, tucking it under his peacoat.

Turning on his heel, Henry rushed up the steps and pushed the tombstone back into its place, leaving everything as it had been — minus one very important book. Stepping out of the vault triumphantly, he smiled at his waiting mother. "Got it," he said proudly.

Emma took the book from him and thumbed quickly through the pages, as if she knew exactly where the spell they needed would be.

"Blood magic," she announced, her brow knit in concern. "Henry, this is Cora's spell book. This requires blood magic," she explained, looking up and into his eyes.

"I know," he replied solemnly.

"Well….I hate to tell you this, but Regina's going to know something's going on if we need her blood to cast the spell," she said with a raised brow, her humor even more dry than usual.

Henry rolled his eyes. "We won't need her blood," he argued, reaching forward to snap the book back from Emma's hands.

"Henry," she said again, lingering on the end of his name, like she knew whatever he was going to say would be completely unorthodox, dangerous — and Regina, were she privy to any of it, would be in complete disagreement.

But he cut her off, recognizing the sharp intake of breath to signal a long explanation of why she couldn't — wouldn't — do what he was asking.

"You brought Marian back. You brought Zelena back," he reminded her, and he hated himself for it because she had only been doing what she thought was right. His features softened when he saw his mother stiffen against his words. Even as the Dark One, her son's opinion of her mattered.

"You didn't mean for any of this to happen. I know that. Everyone knows that. Even my mom," he promised. "But we have a way to make it better. To make it right. Mom…please."

Henry's words, his desperate pleas to make something — one thing — right again in his world were not lost on Emma. And even through the stony outer shell of the Dark One, her deepest soul was touched by the sentiment. And if she were to let Emma take over for even a moment, she could agree that Regina deserved this. She owed this to her.

Her eyes were cast down now to the ground between her feet and her son's. Her mind was reeling, thinking of every possible outcome — because there would be a price. There was always a price. But no matter how she spun it, hundreds of scenarios playing across her mind in a matter of seconds, her power as the Dark One allowing her the privilege of seeing possible futures — they all had one thing in common. Regina. Smiling. A child in her arms, and smiling. Smiling like Emma certainly had never seen her smile before.

Emma was all sharp edges and stinging and suffering in this new role as Dark One. But even so, and perhaps because of this fact, the image of Regina hounded her and spoke to her innermost being. It spoke to the woman she hoped she still was. The woman who showed up on the doorstep of an unknown Mayor years ago, who delivered her son safely home. The woman who had counted Regina as a friend, who after years of fighting against her now fought at her side. Now, when given the chance, perhaps she could find it within herself — even this self — to fight for her.

Emma looked up. Her eyes were determined as they met with Henry's, having decided in certainty to follow through.

Because she did — she owed her. This and so much more.

"I think we need to pay that witch a visit."


	4. Chapter 4

One of the positives of being the Dark One (and truly there weren't many), was the ability to use magic — dark magic, her son would point out only somewhat disapprovingly — to peek in on some of the less trustworthy citizens of Storybrooke. In this case, her target was Zelena. For three days, Emma would use a small mirror on one Nurse Ratchet's hideous pins to watch the prisoner in her cell. It was incredibly dull most of the time, watching her snap at her captors, share a little dark and humorless banter with Whale at her checkup, or complain that the kale salads and green juices Regina insisted she be fed were more torturous than anything she had forced her own prisoners to endure.

But it was during one of these mundane visits from the good nurse that Emma heard what she was certain could be useful in her plan.

"The only thing this little one seems to want at the moment is a plate of onion rings," Zelena practically drooled, staring at the covered meal. But the lid lifted and it was greens once again.

Emma didn't waste any more time listening in. She had what she needed. She had her bait.

Nurse Ratched turned to go, the rejected plate of salad in hand. The moment the door shut behind her, there was the familiar whirr of air and the tingling presence of magic in the room.

"Trust me. If anyone knows what it's like to be pregnant behind bars, it's me." Emma said stoically from where she appeared in front of the barred window.

"The Dark Swan," Zelena said with a mockingly impressed tone, her lips pulling back to reveal a toothy smile.

"To what do I owe this honor," she asked with a squint, holding back a wicked giggle.

"Just wanted to have a little chat," Emma replied, her face still like stone, devoid of any emotion.

"Afraid I'm not in the mood," Zelena sneered, turning her head — but not her attention — away from Emma. Because when the Dark One visits you, you can't truly stop paying attention.

But Emma didn't need her to be in the mood. She stepped forward, and in a second, they were both taken from the cell in a cyclone of grey smoke.

A moment later, they were in Emma's kitchen. Zelena was used to being magicked from one location to another, but it was usually on her own terms, and this place was new to her. She glanced around briefly to be sure there was no obvious and eminent danger, and when her gaze circled back to Emma, she noticed the two brown paper bags she was holding — and the ring of wetness around the bottoms. Grease. One inhale and she knew exactly what it was.

Emma just smiled and set the bags down on the table, opening them to let out the smell.

Zelena couldn't help the smile that was pulling at the corners of her mouth, nor the drool collecting on the top of her tongue. Reaching out to take the offered tinfoil pouch brimming with freshly fried onion rings, she swallowed and sat. "I suppose I could be willing to listen."

"So tell me. What kind of trouble do you want to get into?" Zelena asked, already bringing a ring up to her lips.

Four pouches of onion rings later, Zelena's appetite was only half sated. But Emma's voice broke through the blissful fog of having a pregnancy craving met.

"Eat up. Dark One's don't judge."

A single breathy laugh and Zelena put down the half eaten ring, wiping her hands on the paper napkin stamped "Granny's".

"Despite these greasy treats, I know this isn't a social call," Zelena said, her brow arching upwards as if to invite whatever hellish plan Emma had planned for her. "What do you want."

"Direct. I like that," Emma said in an even tone. "Take a look at this."

She held up the Apprentice's Wand, its viney handle and bulbous knob unmistakably recognizable.

"The Apprentice's Wand," Zelena agreed, to sure where this was headed.

Emma hummed in agreement and turned to look down the bridge of her nose at the wand, the hint of a smile peeking through tightly pursed lips.

"You and I have a short but…complicated history," Emma offered, setting the wand down on the table between them and lowered herself slowly into the chair, crossing her legs.

Zelena rolled her eyes and leaned back in the chair, her arms crossing nonchalantly, and with some annoyance, over her chest. "What's your point, Swan."

"Your sister. Now that's a different story," she hummed, leaning forward and twirling the wand on the table. "She and I have a complicated history, too. But the difference between you and Regina…is that Regina has shown some capacity for change."

"Look who's talking," Zelena scoffed, already bored with this conversation, wishing there was another packet of onion rings to busy herself with.

"Does the Dark One think she's better than me?" she chided. "Do you honestly think you're in any position to dole out judgement? Or to talk about change and hope and redemption," she laughed mockingly.

"No," Emma replied coolly. "That's not why I brought you here."

"Then why. Because you and I both know it wasn't for the bloody onion rings," Zelena spat, flicking the empty wrappers to make her point.

"Well certainly it was for bloody something," Emma replied, and with the wave of her hand froze Zelena in her place.

She stood calmly and out of a cloud of grey smoke, conjured a single long needle. Walking slowly around her chair, Emma stood behind Zelena and leaned forward, close to her ear. "It's a shame about that cuff," she hummed, gesturing to the leather bracelet she had been made to wear the moment she was brought back to Storybrooke.

Lifting the needle, Emma grabbed hold of Zelena's wrist and turned to look into the redheaded witch's eyes. "That baby was never meant for you," she whispered — and she was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to threaten Zelena.

Aside from a few stifled whimpers, Zelena didn't make a sound. She couldn't. She couldn't move.

"I can't let you destroy her chance for happiness," Emma hummed. "Not when you've already taken so much."

Zelena had caused nothing but destruction since the moment she had come to town. Between the curse in the Enchanted Forest, and nearly costing Snow and Charming their son, there was much Emma had to punish her for. This was the icing on the cake. The ketchup on the onion rings she thought to herself and laughed.

In one swift movement, Emma drove the needle deep into Zelena's index finger, pulling it back up triumphantly. With an ample amount of blood pooling at the tip, Emma had no need for the redhead any longer. A wave of her free hand and Zelena was back in her cell — no longer her problem.

Swiping the empty wrappers off of the table with her forearm, Emma magicked the book to appear in their place, the pages turning on their own to the appropriate spell. Finding it easily, Emma spoke the incantation in a low and hissing voice — and when every word in the ancient tongue had been spoken, she drove the needle, and its blood, down hard against the pages, letting it sink in until it disappeared entirely.

Emma stood up straight, shallow breaths the sign of her efforts. It was done. The spell was cast. Even now she was sure it would be taking hold. She only hoped this brought some bit of peace to this sad, horrible chaos.

* * *

Regina shot up in bed, woken suddenly from a deep sleep. Depression was a familiar friend to the former Evil Queen, and as events with Zelena had unfolded, she had taken to closing herself away most afternoons, drawing back the curtains and pushing out all of the light. In the comfort of her darkened room, she was safe to feel, to cry, to scream. But even then, she would stifle herself deep into a pillow to save Henry (and sometimes Robin) from the depth of her sorrow. But this was something else entirely. This wasn't her emotion. This was physical. And magical.

Her first thoughts after the sudden pain were "what now", trying to imagine who — what person or entity — she had offended to earn herself whatever curse or malady this was. She felt as though she were being stabbed clean through her middle with a searing hot poker. Her hand covered her flat abdomen as she doubled in on herself, an elongated whimper escaping her lips.

"Rob—Robin," she choked out, not even entirely sure if he was there — or if anyone was there.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, hoping to make it to the door. For what, she wasn't sure. Who do you call when you're sure someone is ripping you apart and turning you inside out? Emma was certainly occupied. Henry — this wasn't his responsibility — and frankly, she didn't want him to see her this way. Snow. Charming. "Over my dead body," she thought, but then she was certain that's how this would end and maybe it wasn't so bad to call your once-stepdaughter-then-nemesis-turned-friend.

Slow shuffled steps, hunched over, bent knees. Regina was nearly blinded by the pain, her free hand waving out in front of her, feeling for the doorknob. She nearly made contact, but a second stabbing pain tore through her and sent her crashing to her knees, tumbling forward and landing with a crack against the door.

When she came to, she wasn't sure what time it was, how long she had been laying there. But she was keenly aware that she needed help. She could taste copper, and her head was throbbing. Lifting her hand to her forehead, she hissed at the sudden sting. Sitting up slightly, she cried out weakly, her hand moving to her abdomen as she was reminded of how she wound up here in the first place.

Turning over onto her knees, she turned the knob and pushed the door open. She tried to get to her feet but with her returning consciousness came returning pain. On hands and knees she crawled out of her room and toward the staircase. She was halfway down when she heard her phone ring.

She was sweating, and dizzy. And there was a deep and pulsing pain deep in her belly that was altogether foreign and familiar. Determined, she pushed through. Still crawling, she reached her coat, slung carelessly over the arm of her favorite chair. Regina dug deep into the pocket and pressed "accept" without even looking to see who it was.

"Help," she muttered weakly, wincing and crying out once more as the pain returned, tearing through her. The phone dropped from her hand and Regina shivered as she laid herself down against the white tile of the foyer.


	5. Chapter 5

"Regina? Regina?"

Snow's panicked voice was the first thing Regina recognized. Then it was her soft, pudgy hands against her face — their warmth in stark contrast to her own clammy skin.

"There. There….she's coming to," Snow breathed out in audible relief.

Regina opened her eyes slowly, blinking and wincing at the sudden rush of light flooding in. She groaned and recoiled, but Snow's hands held her steady.

"Regina," the younger woman cooed, bringing her hand behind Regina's head and lifting carefully, sliding a pillow beneath her neck.

Only then was Regina aware that there was also a small stack of pillows beneath her feet. They think I passed out. Regina rolled her eyes, but it wasn't half as intimidating now as it normally was.

"Something's wrong," she managed to mutter, closing her eyes and breathing out in an attempt to keep the room from spinning. "Magic," she mumbled, wanting them to understand that this was being done to her. This was not an illness. This was a spell. Or worse.

"David," Snow said nervously, turning over her shoulder. "We have to get her help," she realized aloud — And Regina silently cursed the gods or fate that she was surrounded by such idiots.

David nodded and without wasting another moment, crouched down and hooked his arms beneath Regina's legs and shoulders.

"Can you hold on to me?" he asked, his eyes soft with concern as he looked into Regina's face.

Regina nodded weakly, and slung her arms around his neck — but by the time he was laying her down in the back of the Mercedes, her strength was betraying her once more.

David took the keys and Snow sat in the back with Regina, letting her stepmother's head rest in her lap. Snow was too worried and Regina too weak to stop her — Snow was running her hand over Regina's hair, trying to comfort Regina and calm herself.

When they pulled up to the front of the hospital, a stretcher was already waiting. Regina silently wondered when they'd had the opportunity to make that call out of her earshot, but didn't care enough to pursue the thought. She didn't even have the strength to protest the stretcher.

They wheeled her through the halls and toward the private room that had been prepped — and as she rolled her head to the side, she would swear she saw Zelena, her unmistakable red hair, on a bed, nurses flurrying around her, machines beeping wildly. But that door closed, and Regina faced forward again just in time to see the empty room ahead, waiting for her. The sudden change of view made her nauseous, and again she closed her eyes to stop the room from spinning. And suddenly she was aware that she was alone.

"Snow?" she asked no one in particular, wondering at what point she stopped being at her side. But as soon as she spoke her name, she could hear — even through the doors swinging closed and separating them — Snow's voice calling back to her.

"I'll be right here, Regina."

"Robin."

"We'll call him," Whale's familiar voice entered the room, and he stepped into Regina's line of sight, blue gloved hands held up to maintain sterility.

"But first, we need to take care of you."

* * *

The pulsing in her head was replaced with a cool, tingling sensation, and as Regina opened her eyes again, her first thought was of how incredibly fed up she was with loosing consciousness. Worse than a memory curse — because this made her feel weak.

I'm not weak. Her own voice echoed in her memory, shouted inches from her father's face one angry morning in the Enchanted Forest. She sighed and closed her eyes, pushing those memories away — because of all the people she had hurt in her life, she regretted hurting him possibly the most.

She swallowed, and this time instead of tasting copper, she tasted chemicals. She blanched at the unwanted flavor and clicked her tongue in disgust.

"Hey." Snow's voice was light and whispering and Regina could hear the delight in her tone. Before she knew it, Snow was slipping her hand into Regina's, and the former Queen winced — only then realizing she was attached to several IV tubes.

"Henry," Regina spoke, turning to look into Snow White's face, ignoring — but not rejecting — her hand. "Where's Henry."

"Outside. With David," she replied. "You gave us quite a scare."

Regina could hear the genuine worry in the younger woman's voice, and so she chose to ignore how the phrase 'quite a scare' made her sound like a geriatric invalid who'd slipped in the shower.

"What happened?" she asked, still certain that this was magic — that someone had done this to her deliberately.

"We called you…because there was a problem at the hospital. With Zelena," Snow began to explain.

"Zelena did this," Regina deduced quickly and with gritted teeth, sitting up slightly as if she would climb down off this bed and teach her a lesson she wouldn't soon forget.

"No," Snow said softly, her free hand moving to Regina's shoulder, half in the hopes of comforting her and half in the hopes of keeping her in her bed.

"No," she continued, "Zelena was rushed to emergency. She was in excruciating pain. They had to sedate her. She's still asleep," Snow explained.

Regina simply stared into Snow's hazel eyes, surprisingly not comforted by the fact that Zelena was in pain, too. She lifted her brow in expectation, hoping to get a little more information out of her.

No such luck.

"What the hell is going on," Regina asked, her voice raised and arms flailing in frustration.

The answer came as Whale pushed through the door with an aggravatingly chipper smile on his face. Regina rolled her eyes and leaned back against her pillow, her sigh conveying utter disgust with the entire situation.

"I'll let him catch you up," Snow said with a squeak and a smile, patting Regina's shoulder as a mother would to a child — and Regina hated it.

"Regina," Whale said with a smile, picking up the chart from the bedside cubby. "Feeling any better?"

"Better is relative. What I'd like are answers," she replied evenly, narrowed eyes following Whale's figure with annoyance.

"Well. Answers…aren't going to be easy," he admitted with a sigh, slapping the chart closed and tucking it beneath his arm, hands clasping in front of his frame.

Regina was more than fed up. She could feel her anger bubbling close to the surface and she shifted uncomfortably in her bed, suddenly very aware that she was in a hospital gown and there would be no quick escape unless she wanted half of Storybrooke to catch sight of her backside.

But before she could open her mouth to demand she be released and her clothes returned to her —-

"You're pregnant."

The nausea she had so assuredly been rid of suddenly returned.

"You're mistaken."

"I'm sure I'm not," Whale laughed, bringing the chart back out from under his arm and flipping it open. "Your blood work is… unmistakable," he assured her.

Regina gripped the handrail to the side of her bed.

"Check again," she said angrily through gritted teeth. "Run it again. I cannot be. I am not."

Recognizing the wild anger in her eyes from darker times when his path crossed with the Queen, Whale nodded and stepped out, his presence quickly replaced with a petite nurse, who reverently asked for Regina's arm, drawing another vile of blood.

Just as she was about to disappear from the room, vile in hand —

"Wait," Regina called, reaching out for her. "The woman in the other room. Zelena," she spoke with question in her voice.

"I'm sorry, I can't give—" she replied, and Regina stopped her again.

"I'm her next of kin," she offered, hoping that would earn her some answers.

Looking over her shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot — because she knew that this was against hospital policy, regardless of next of kin — but also because she knew that Regina was the Queen, and she'd rather not be on her bad side — she stepped closer and spoke quietly.

"She lost the pregnancy," she explained.

Regina felt the blood drain from her face. And nausea. Again.

"When," Regina asked nervously, and sadly — because despite everything, Zelena was her sister, and she was still operating under the assumption that Whale's blood tests were incorrect.

"This afternoon. Around four." she offered. "I'm sorry I have to get this to the lab," she apologized and quickly scampered out of the room.

Four. Regina eyed her coat — this time slung over the arm of the guest chair, along with Snow's purse and the keys to her Mercedes. Her gaze moved to her IV, sizing up the length of the tubes and wondering if she could stretch to reach her coat. But as she sat up to begin her attempt, the muscles in her abdomen clenched and ached — she felt bruised from the inside — and she decided against trying to move again.

Grabbing hold of the call button, Regina pressed it rapidly and with annoyance, lifting her chin up to try and peer over the frosted glass in the room to look out at the nurse's station.

The same, small, mousey nurse poked her head in.

"Yes, Mayor Mills?" she asked softly — sweetly.

Regina's lip curled in disgust at that sweetness. But this was an unfortunate reaction to a situation for which this nurse was not to blame Regina reminded herself, and with an exhale, pursed her lips together briefly to reset her own facial expression.

"Could you give me my phone? It's in the left pocket," she directed, pointing to the coat in the corner.

The nurse obliged, and handed her the phone — then picked up the call button and hung the lead beside the bed once more, hoping that she wouldn't be called back.

Mashing the buttons frantically, Regina pushed her way through the menu, until she reached "Calls". The call from Snow was timestamped at 4:45. Regina breathed out as she set the phone down in her lap, her eyes falling closed. She didn't believe in coincidences.

She did believe in magic.

Bringing her hand to her abdomen once again, Regina slid an open palm over her middle. The thinness of the hospital gown hid very little. Just below her navel, there was a distinct bulge. Years of strict exercise regiments and kale salads and no sweets — the diet of a Queen, Cora had taught her — afforded her a flat belly. There was no explanation for this, she realized, her eyes locked in confusion and shock and awe and fear on her own frame.

Whale walked in briskly, making Regina jump in her place, pulling her hand nervously away from her belly. "Two for two, your Majesty," he announced in the brash, crude manner that only Whale could.

"You're pregnant," he added after an uncomfortable silence.

Still, nothing.

"About…fourteen weeks it would seem."

Nothing.

Regina was succeeding in the otherwise-impossible. Whale was growing skittish and uncomfortable, transforming before her eyes from a carefree bumbling know-it-all Doctor to a sheepish, confused mad-scientist.

"Seems….Congratulations are in order."

Silence.

He took in a breath, his eyes going slightly wider. "I'm…going to let your family in, so you can share the —"

"No." She cut him off.

No. No, because what would she say? What would she tell them? And who would she tell? The potion she had taken was fool-proof. There was no undoing it. So, even if by some miracle (no, not miracle — magic) she were pregnant, it surely wouldn't last. She would lose it. As she lost everything else in life she cared about the most.

"No," she heard herself say again, her eyes going glassy with tears, confusion threatening to overwhelm her. She turned her head to avoid eye contact with Whale, but instead, caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She barely recognized herself.

She looked small, disheveled and pale. Without makeup and lipstick, and the clean cuts of her tailored designer suits, she'd lost that commanding presence she prided herself on. Biting her lip, she tucked a lock of ebony hair behind her ear nervously, and looked away. Because now she looked more like the little girl who'd been bent to her mother's will all those years ago, rather than the monarch who instilled fear in her subjects.

"Snow," she corrected herself, turning back to look at Whale. "Snow," she said again, as if convincing herself that this was correct — this was who she wanted with her.

Whale nodded, and left the room in silence.

It was only a few moments before Snow entered, unable to hide the joy in her eyes from being selected by Regina — because even now, there was a part of her that still desired Regina's love and approval over anything else. But that light in her eyes was quickly dulled and replaced with confusion — because Regina was hanging onto the edge of the bed, trying to get up, and she looked smaller than she knew her to be.

"..'Gina, what are you doing?" she asked in a hurried whisper, rushing to her side, offering her hand for support.

"I'm going home," Regina replied gruffly, stepping away from the bed and away from Snow's help — but she recoiled, caught by the shortness of the IV tubes. "Damnit," she breathed out, beginning to tug at the pic line just below her knuckles.

"Oh…Regina…no, don't," Snow begged, seeing what she was doing — she didn't think she should be leaving, but more than that, the very thought of Regina detaching herself from those tubes made her queasy.

"Come on, let me help you," she offered, and she meant help her back into bed. She could feel Regina resisting, but they both knew she was in no position to do so. And Snow couldn't help but smile, because the Regina she had seen earlier terrified her. The Regina who was succumbing to the physical, when she seemed so much bigger than life. This Regina, fighting help and fighting comfort because accepting it means she's lacking something — this Regina she knew and loved.

Regina reluctantly got into bed, only because she realized that going home wouldn't solve anything. Because walking outside of this room meant walking into a crowd of questioning faces and sympathetic stares. And that was worse.

She swallowed hard and covered the sides of her face with her hands, trying to decide what to do next. Snow's hand moved to her back, rubbing in soothing circles, and Regina knew she had to say something.

"Zelena lost the baby," she finally said, choosing to start there because somehow that was easier — but also, if she let herself believe what seemed to be happening, that was the starting point.

"Oh.. Regina, I —," Snow began, confused but sympathetic, and she would have offered more comfort, but she could see Regina squirming and she knew more was coming.

"Zelena lost the baby and…. I'm pregnant," she whispered, finally turning to look into Snow's eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

She was a Queen, and she had to be helped into her trousers — by Snow White, no less — because despite how degrading it was to have to be so vulnerable in front of a former enemy (regardless of the progress they'd made to counter that), it was even more so to be helped by a stranger, who only knew her as powerful and mighty, who had no knowledge of the foundation of pain and brokenness that might was built upon.

The ache in the muscles of her belly had not dulled. It felt like she had been sucker punched straight to the gut, the fibers of her muscles broken apart and throbbing. Like she had done about four hundred too many crunches at the gym. _Like someone had torn out her hollow, empty, rotten womb and replaced it with a new one, holding a fourteen week old fetus._

She was a Queen, and she held her head high as she stepped out of the small hospital room and into the waiting area where her family — chosen and otherwise — waited anxiously. Their eyes begged for answers, and Robin crossed the space quickly to get to her side, his arm wrapping around her waist instinctively — and he only meant to comfort her, but she stiffened and pulled away from his touch, and while he stepped back, respecting her space, the look in his eyes was that of a wounded deer.

"Let's go home." And her words were spoken to Henry, but were meant for Robin, too. She didn't care that she was disappointing the masses with her lack of answers, of explanation. She owed them nothing. And to be frank, she hadn't quite processed any of it herself yet.

She was a Queen, and she had to be helped into the passenger's side of her own car, four hands holding her steady, two sets of worried eyes glued to her frame. Her boys — her _men_. Henry stepped back to allow Robin to bear her weight, while he remained pinned against the open car door, watching helplessly — and knowing that this was his doing.

Robin was silent as he brushed away a tear from the top of Regina's cheekbone, before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. He could sense her need for strength now — or at least the mask of it. Because inside, she was clearly breaking.

The drive home was silent. Not even the quiet popping static of the radio could drown out the deafening emptiness in the car. Regina hated it. She wished she could bring herself to speak, to offer reassurance to her son, to allow Robin into the deeply hidden softness of her soul, to share her fears and pain and — but not here. Not now. Not when she could barely keep from whimpering every time the tire hit uneven pavement.

 _Fill the potholes._ She thought to herself, mentally taking note of her next Mayoral command.

She was a Queen, and she was " _capable of getting out of the car herself,"_ she chided with annoyance in her tone. And they let her try. They stood back and diverted their eyes and let her struggle, her arms shaking as she clung to the open car door, biting down hard on her lip and willing her body to cooperate — but they only let her struggle for a moment.

Robin's arms were around her back and under her shoulders, and he was lifting her gently to her feet, letting his strength be hers as she found her footing.

"Thank you," she said softly, still not ready to admit she had needed help in the first place.

Henry pushed the door open, leading the way into the house, followed by Robin and Regina, side by side, her hand wrapped around his forearm. The three stood for a moment, eyes on the ground, pausing to take in the scene. Tiny droplets of blood pickered the white tile, a trail leading up the steps — and Regina lifted her hand to brush the hair off of her forehead, fingertips grazing against the scratchy gauze. The three stood and stared. And then dispersed as if on cue.

"I'll clean up," Henry offered, and he was already making his way to the kitchen closed, retrieving the mop and a can of aerosol cleaner for the carpeted steps.

Regina's gaze moved to Robin's face, studying him for a moment, as if daring him to try and pick her up and carry her up the steps. She would have none of it. Because she was a Queen, not a willowy damsel in distress.

It took entirely too long to get up the steps, Regina leaning heavily against the bannister with one arm, her other loosely tethered to Robin, who had his hand at her back.

The door to her bedroom was still open, and the path of destruction she'd left was still evident. The bedside lamp was turned over, the shade hanging loosely off the side. Sheets and blankets were draped on the ground, spilling off of the bed.

With his help, she got herself positioned somewhat comfortably in the center of the bed, pillows stacked high, propping her up, and blankets tucking her in tight. Robin sat on the edge of the bed, wringing his hands — and once upon a time, there had been a ring there on his left for him to fiddle with — but that was a lifetime ago.

He let out a sigh and turned his head to look into the dark eyes of the woman he loved, his brow going wrinkly — _like a puppy_ , Regina thought, and she hated that she thought it.

There was not an easy way around this. And she owed him the truth. But just a few weeks earlier, she had spilled her soul and her secrets to him — she couldn't ever have children — and yet, here they were. And though it should have been a happy thing — maybe could be — Regina was sure that there was more to it, and there would be, because this was magic. And magic always came with a price.

And more time than she would care to admit, the ones she loved were the ones who paid it.

Her lips parted and she breathed in softly — she wanted to speak, but what was there to say? With Snow, she had blurted it out because with Snow, she didn't have to tread lightly. The time for treading lightly had passed somewhere between drawing up the WANTED posters and force feeding her that poisoned apple. _What she wouldn't give right now for a sleeping curse_.

* * *

The subject of what had happened was able to be avoided a few hours more, after Regina quickly succumbed to exhaustion (mental, emotional and physical). At least while she was sleeping she didn't have to feel the muscles in her abdomen clench and ache. When she woke again, though, it was an immediate reminder that she hadn't dreamed it all up.

She got up slowly, clutching her middle as she stood — never having realized you use your abdominal muscles so much just to stand. Upright and on her feet, she was struck by a wave of nausea — again — but she paused only for a moment, then swallowed deeply, keeping sickness at bay. Tugging her robe around her a little more tightly, and tying it off with the sash around her waist, Regina let out a slow exhale and slowly walked the length of the room, pushing the door open.

She braced herself carefully against the bannister as she descended the stairs, and she could hear the quiet clinking of ceramic coming from the kitchen. Unsure who she would find — and it could be anyone at this point, because Snow would feel she had been let in to Regina's inner sanctum ( _and she had, hadn't she? Because what else could she be after holding Regina's upper body against her own as she held her trousers out for her to step into?_ ) and there was Charming and Henry and Robin, and Emma, too. She was playing roulette in her mind, wondering where the needle would land as she rounded the corner into the kitchen.

 _Robin._ She was relieved.

"Where's Henry?" she asked, her voice low and groggy, and she touched her throat gently, rubbing over her the lump in her throat because it startled her a little at how exhausted she sounded out loud.

"School," Robin replied, having turned suddenly at the sound of her voice. He had been too lost in his thoughts to hear her approaching, and while startled, he restrained himself, resisting the urge to go to her side immediately, closing the space between them.

Because there was space between them now.

Regina looked confused, and narrowed her eyes, peering past where Robin stood and looking out of the window. Daylight. She supposed that made sense. She had taken her tumble in the late afternoon, was admitted early in the evening, discharged brought home late that night — and clearly she had slept several hours since then because the blinking green numbers over the stove told her it was nearly noon.

Realizing the time and quickly adjusting to it, Regina nodded and pursed her lips together, her gaze going back to Robin.

He was scared. She could see that much. She wondered, briefly, if all his hopes that she would be vulnerable with him were being taken back now — because maybe this was too much. Maybe a broken Queen wasn't actually what he wanted, and he would pull back and—

"How are you feeling," he asked, interrupting her train of dark thoughts.

Regina nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm alright."

"Regina."

The way he said her name made her melt a little. It always did — like every time she was with him, he would melt away her icy outer layers a little at a time.

"We need to talk," she admitted, and she cursed herself because she could feel the sting of tears fighting to escape her chocolate eyes.

He nodded, and set down the empty mug he'd been holding all this time. Breakfast and coffee would wait.

* * *

On the couch, Regina sat with her legs tucked up beneath her, her back pressed against the arm — and Robin was in the middle, a large gap of space between them he wished she would allow him to fill.

They'd been sitting in silence for far too long, and the ticking of the clock was a constant reminder that despite her desire to never speak of this, their time alone in the house was coming to an end. Henry would be home soon. And even with her extreme stubbornness, she couldn't actually sit there in silence for another thirty weeks.

Regina licked her lips and took in a deep breath. _Rip the bandaid_ as Emma would say.

"I'm pregnant," she finally spat out — quickly, and without emotion. Because if she allowed herself to feel what she was speaking, she would be reduced to a sloppy, sobbing mess.

Robin just stared. His eyes were on her face, but he was losing resolve, and he couldn't stop himself from letting them fall, just barely catching a glimpse of her middle, hidden well beneath her robe when —

"Zelena lost her baby. And…I'm…"

"Pregnant," Robin finished her thought, his heart pulling in so many directions. His thoughts darted from Zelena to Regina to the babies — _baby?_ — to the Vault, to New York, to the Enchanted Forest. Suddenly his head — and the room — were spinning and he leaned forward where he sat, suddenly finding himself pushing up and to his feet. But there was nowhere to go. And he didn't want to go anywhere, not really.

"Pregnant," he said again, turning to look at Regina. And she was suddenly so small, and her eyes pleading, and he understood the silence now. Because this was complicated and confusing where it should have been just joy — and he knew by the look in her eyes that this was magic, too.

But he couldn't help the smile that was tugging at the corner of his lips, and he was letting out a breathy laugh as he sat — this time closer — at her side, his hand coming to rest on her knee, traveling up to her thigh.

"You're pregnant. And…Zelena….isn't," he said with long pauses, trying to process too many things at once.

"So this is…" he began, his hand moving again to press against her middle, pulling back slightly when he felt Regina recoil, her face flashing with pain.

"This is…" he said again, but he didn't finish his thought. Because he didn't want to say it. He didn't want to hurt her — but this was Zelena's baby, he thought — until it wasn't.

"Robin, I.." Regina began, feeling compelled to explain that she hadn't done this. But there was no accusation when she looked into his eyes. Completely the opposite. There was something of relief behind confusion — because this meant that her sister was no longer a hurdle they had to jump to be together. There was nothing tethering Robin to Zelena anymore.

"I know."

He did. He did know. He knew that despite his instinct to celebrate this would-be victory, it was always more complicated than that. Particularly because Zelena was still being held in the bowels of the hospital, in her padded cell, devoid of magic. She was still a problem. Even when she wasn't.

"But," he said, reaching to take her hand, holding it in both of his own, his eyes locked on hers. "In this moment. Right now. All I want to do is focus on you," he confessed with a smile. "On us."

Her eyes lowered to stare at his lips, trying - and failing - to keep from leaning in. Because there was comfort there, and she had missed it. She leaned forward with her whole body, letting his hand move to her waist, the other finding the back of her head with ease. Their lips locked and when they parted, she was breathless, dipping her head low until his nose brushed against her forehead.

His hand was still at her belly, and Regina lowered hers to meet it. She bit her lip gently, her eyes fixed on where they were joined. Maybe there could be some happiness for her in this. She smiled sadly — because she never imagined she would have this. And she tried to banish the thoughts that this could all be gone again, happiness ripped from her once again, at any moment.


	7. Chapter 7

"We've got a problem."

Regina barely scribbled out her latest order — fixing those damned potholes across town — when David's voice interrupted her.

She'd gone back to work, back to her office, only that morning, and was still concealing her pregnancy from the masses with a cleverly placed scarf and looser-than-usual blouse. But David would know. She was sure of it. Because his wife was Snow, and she wouldn't have kept this secret. Not from him. And Regina hadn't expected her to, anyway.

"What now," she asked, looking up from her work, and standing, her magic tingling at the tips of her fingers, ready to conjure a fireball and hurl it at whatever monster had come to town this time.

"Zelena's gone."

Regina felt sick, and it was hard now to tell what was normal nausea associated with her pregnancy, and what was genuine concern — or rather, annoyance, because Zelena was always a problem, even when she wasn't actively trying to be one.

"What," she asked dryly, her eyes narrowing in some cross between anger and worry.

"When the nurse made her rounds, she was gone. There's no way she got out of that cell on her own. She's still wearing the cuff," David reminded her — but Regina didn't need reminding.

"She had help," Regina deduced aloud, and her mind was already scrolling down the invisible list of names, possible culprits.

She was about to suggest Gold, because Regina still held the sneaking suspicion that the two had been in cahoots before, and despite his time as her prisoner, and the awkward truth that she was responsible for Neal's death, Rumplestilskin could never resist a good deal. But that thought train was quickly derailed when —

"Hook is gone, too," David added, and his hand was already moving to his holster, ready to charge.

But Regina was a bit more subtle in her approach. She was graceful in the exacting of her revenge, and never brash or hot headed — even when danger was eminent — because acting without thinking never earned her any reward.

"Emma," she said aloud, and she knew David wouldn't like it. He and Snow still wanted to believe that Emma was still Emma, and not the Dark One. They'd never been keen to believe she would be anything but good, even with the hard evidence to the contrary slapping them in the face every time she appeared in a puff of grey smoke, her skin glittering with dark magic.

And maybe David didn't like this either, but he said nothing. He watched as Regina grabbed her coat, flung it around her shoulders and slipped her arms into the sleeves easily. He let her pass in front of him, crossing the room and exiting swiftly — and he was right behind her.

* * *

Hook woke up in an unfamiliar, dark space. The air was cool and damp around him, and as he slowly came to, he moved his leg only to realize he was chained and shackled. Sitting up with a grunt, he investigated further, finding the bolt and tugging — uselessly — at the lead. His gaze followed the stretch of iron links, tugging lightly, and finding he was not alone.

The chains rattled as he pulled again, and his eyes landed on a bare leg — pale, pinkish skin.

Zelena smiled, but not in her usual crazed way. This was more of a 'hello, yes, good morning, we're trapped' sort of smile.

"Zelena," he breathed out. "Why are you here," he asked, trying too hard to sound annoyed, but his question was obviously genuine.

"Your insane girlfriend fed me onion rings, stabbed me with a needle, and used blood magic to take my baby. Kidnapped me right out of the hospital room!" she snapped, her annoyance tempered with sadness.

"And they say I'm wicked," she added softly, mostly to herself.

"Why would she do that," Hook asked, still not able to believe that Emma — his Emma — was capable of anything close to what she was saying. Even if she was the Dark One.

"What would she need you for," he asked, looking around, familiarizing himself with his surroundings.

"From the looks of things, she's casting a spell to steal my magic." Zelena replied, gesturing with her chin to a table on the opposite side of the cavern. It was covered in papers and books, potion bottles and prisms.

"Why does she need more dark magic," he asked, his face stern as though he were genuinely fearful for what may be in store.

"I don't," Emma chimed in, her voice riding on the heels of the gust of air and magic she'd used to appear there with them.

"I'm not taking Zelena's magic, I'm giving her mine instead," Emma announced, stiff jawed and evenly.

"What," Zelena asked, her eyes wide with anger — and fear.

"Killian, you were right," Emma spoke, her tone a bit softer as she turned to look at him. But he was looking back at her with distrust in his eyes and that was something she was not used to — not from him.

"My plan hasn't been to destroy light magic. It's been to destroy dark magic. The dark magic that's inside of me," she breathed out, as if she were trying to breathe away the darkness then and there.

"If that were true, why keep it secret from me — or the rest of your family," he asked, his eyes narrowed.

More distrust.

"Because I knew you would never let me do what was necessary to get the job done," Emma confessed.

"And that's where I come in," Zelena realized aloud.

Hook and Emma both turned to her, as if they'd suddenly remembered someone else was present.

"YES." Emma replied angrily, her voice rising. "The darkness needs to be contained in a vessel — you."

"Emma, what are you going to do," Hook asked nervously — because this wasn't her. This was desperation. And he didn't understand why she was suddenly so desperate.

He didn't know because Emma was guarding this precious secret — that she and her son had devised — because Regina deserved happiness and Zelena…."Zelena did not," Emma thought to herself. And she was still trying to convince herself of that.

"What needs to be done," Emma answered coolly. "I'm going to cut her down with Excalibur's enchanted blade, and the darkness will be vanquished forever."

And she spoke those words, her plan, with such sincerity and such righteousness that Killian almost forgot that she was talking about a human life. And for every awful thing that Zelena was and had done, she didn't deserve this. No one deserved this. Because if he believed that anyone did, then he had to believe that he deserved it too — because his past was dark. He had been a villain. But he was given the chance to change. Regina had been given the chance to change. And didn't Zelena deserve it, too?

"You're talking about cold-blooded murder," Hook reminded her.

"Killian, she killed Neal. And Marian. Given time, she will kill you, too," Emma countered. And even as she said the words, she knew they were a stretch. She was loosing her ground. But her actions had to be covered up because they were Henry's actions, too, and she would not allow her son to be the victim of Zelena's revenge.

"After today, you can be certain," Zelena snapped back, baring her teeth angrily.

"This isn't about Zelena, Emma. It's about you. We went to Camelot for Merlin's help. Surely he has a solution to the darkness that doesn't require this," Hook plead with her.

But he didn't understand. Because he didn't know the whole truth. He could never know it.

"Merlin can't help us anymore." Emma said firmly.

"Why not. What happened there?" Hook asked, his eyes narrowing again, this time trying to see behind the dark glaze of her eyes, trying to find the truth. "Why are you really doing this…"

* * *

The sky was dark by the time Regina and David had managed to agree on some loose plan, which first involved passing Baby Neal off to Granny and walking from the Charming's apartment to Emma's house — which was further from the center of town than anything else, and Regina had to give her credit because she, herself, had been stupid enough to select a plot of land nearly square in the center of town for her own home.

"I don't understand," Snow finally broke the silence as they walked hurriedly past the parked yellow bug in the street and through the open white gate.

"How can Emma destroy light magic using Zelena?" she asked, trailing behind Regina, keeping at her heels as she used to do when they shared a castle, when they shared a nuclear family, but little else.

"She can't," Regina insisted, not looking anywhere but ahead, the task in front of her — literally.

"What is she planning?" David asked, having finally resigned himself to accepting that Regina's suspicions were correct — that his daughter was holding Zelena captive.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Regina chuckled darkly, hoping to mask the fact that her guess was likely immensely better than David's — because she still thought he was an idiot, yes, but also because she was slowly piecing together the plot that surrounded her, that she seemed to be the center of.

"All I know is - no one hurts my sister, but me." And she meant it, as she stomped up the walkway in her heels. Because her sister was hurting. And it was absolutely her fault.

"What are you planning to do once you find Emma?" Snow asked nervously, as though it suddenly dawned on her that Regina had never once in her life allowed anyone mercy where they had done her wrong — and this was her daughter she was after.

"Oh, it's simple. I'm going to show the Dark Swan what dark magic really looks like." And although her lip pulled up into a snarled smile, her threat was empty. She could — and would — prevent Emma from harming Zelena further, but she would absolutely not do her harm. Because beneath her coat, and beneath the layers of stone hard exterior, Regina had only Emma to thank for the life safely nestled in her belly.

* * *

"Do you hear Emma pacing around up there?" Zelena asked, her eyes on the cavernous ceiling above. "You're her boy toy. What do you think she's up to?"

"I'm no one's toy," he insisted — but this was only half true. "We need to find a way to get rid of these iron shackles before Emma gets back," he added, looking around, searching for any point of weakness.

"Those shackles aren't the problem," Zelena replied, her eyes bugging out — because how could he be so stupid? What Emma saw in him, she would never understand.

"This one is," she added as she held up her wrist, the black cuff in stark contrast against her pale, freckled skin.

"When Regina put it on, she enchanted my wrist and I can't cut it off," she grumbled through gritted teeth. Regina was annoyingly thorough that way.

"Without magic, we're never going to get out of here alive."

Hook stood, determination newly revived in his gaze. "It's a good thing I happen to have some, then."

"What," Zelena snorted, her eyes narrowing to look at the pirate. She hated him, then, for keeping that from her until now. "Huge waste of time," she thought to herself as she rolled her eyes. "You've got magic?"

"No. My hook does. As you recall, I imbued it with magic to rip…your heart out." The reminder was embarrassing to say the least, because even though he had meant it then, fate had pushed them onto the same side now.

Zelena held out her wrist with an understanding nod. "Go on then, what are you waiting for?" she asked with annoyance when he hesitated.

Hook pulled his arm back and held up his index finger, suspicion in his eyes.

"The last time I tried helping you, you betrayed me," he reminded her. "How do I know I can trust you now?"

"You don't. But you also don't have a choice." Zelena's favorite position to be in. Power and control. She'd certainly have been a more successful monarch, had her mother only given her the chance — instead of giving her away.

"Fair point," Hook realized with a nod. "Well then. Here's to trust." With one swift movement, his hook caught against the leather cuff and pulled it from her. It fell to the ground between them, and no sooner was Zelena waving her hand to rid them both of their shackles.

A sigh of relief preceded a second wave of her hands, and in a cloud of green smoke and magic, she was out of her hospital gown and dressed much more to her liking — donning a green frock and black gloves and caplet, Zelena was ready for a fight.

"Feels good to be back," she said with a grin. "Now. About that deal we made…"

Hook thought for a brief flicker of a moment that this would be the end of their time together, that Zelena would not stay true to her word, and he would be left there to fend for himself. But —

"Shall we get out of here?" she asked with a smirk, her tipped hat hiding one of her icy blue eyes.

* * *

"Regina, she's still our daughter," David reminded the former Queen.

Annoyance didn't begin to describe what Regina was feeling. They were still standing in the Dark One's front lawn, arguing about trivial points, loosing the element of surprise. Because you can't surprise the Dark One. And every moment they remained there, with no action, arguing over a plan, they were losing ground. Emma no doubt knew they were there, and didn't have the restriction of having to explain her every move to two idiots.

"We can't go to war with her," Snow argued, her voice pitching upwards.

"If you don't have the stomach for this —," Regina replied, her brow arching upwards. But who was she kidding? She barely had the stomach for this. She was barely keeping anything down at all.

"I'm not going to hurt her," Snow interrupted rather aggressively.

"This is exactly why she gave me the dagger," Regina shouted in reply, her eyes stinging — again — with the threat of tears. She hated herself for it. She hated her weakness, especially at times like these, when her emotions got in the way of the greater good. It was for the greater good, wasn't it?

"She knew I'm the only one who could do what has to be done," Regina snapped, and it hurt her to say it — because what had Emma done, really, except to give her the gift she couldn't have given herself. But then there was Zelena to think of — and it was all too much.

"Now stand back," she insisted, looking into Snow's eyes and feeling her heart break just a little more, because she was crying, and she understood — because Emma was her daughter. And now Regina understood that. "Or I'll make you stand back." Empty threats. They were becoming her specialty.

"No, we are coming with you," Snow said determinedly, and somewhat softer than she had intended.

Regina would hear this and expect that they were going to go with her because Emma was their daughter, and they wanted to be sure that Regina wouldn't hurt her — but it was also because Snow was protective of Regina, too, and the baby she carried, however secretly. She wanted no casualties. No injuries. Snow would protect them all.

"And not only will we stop her…we will save her," Snow finished her thought with a smile.

Regina's brow wrinkled, and she would have argued this further — because you cannot save the Dark One, she knew — but the door to the house opened, and Emma's voice had them spinning around to face her.

"I don't need saving," Emma gritted. "You're going to have to trust me. By the time I'm done with Zelena, you'll all be thanking me. Especially you, Regina," she offered.

"And why would I thank you?" she asked, sneering at the dark shell of the woman she had called 'friend'. This facade was exhausting — the nausea returned as Regina's thoughts clashed. She should be thanking her. Because she knew that this baby was Emma's doing.

"You don't remember this, but back in Camelot, you helped me admit some things about myself," Emma explained, dark eyes glittering in the dim glow of the porch light. "And now I'm ready to repay the favor. Because deep down, we both know you'll be happier when Zelena is gone."

Emma's words stung, because the admission stung. She was right. There was a part of her that knew everything would be easier without her sister. Robin would be easier. This baby would be easier. Every corner and crevice of her sad life would be easier.

"Gone?" Regina asked, the finality of Emma's words lingering in the air, a heaviness settling over her.

"This is not the way, Miss Swan, and you know it."

"We're back to 'Miss Swan'? Emma asked, arching her brow but showing no other sign of emotion.

"Well start acting like Emma again, and we'll talk," Regina snapped, hoping an extra thick layer of sass would mask her weakening resolve.

"I am Emma."

Her voice was dark and angry and cold, and it was a tone neither Regina nor her parents had ever heard before. It was startling in the way the tremors preceding an earthquake were startling — because they signaled the start of something bigger and more terrifying.

Emma stepped down off of the porch, Excalibur in hand, and drove the end of the sword down against the concrete. The sound of metal scraping rock was sickening. Regina stood firm at the point of the triangle she, Snow and David had unintentionally formed, her posture unafraid and unrelenting — she was anything but.

Magic rolled off of the blade and encircled them, freezing them in their place, leaving Emma free to finish the task at hand.

* * *

Zelena crept quietly through the house, Hook close at her heels. Squinting at the bright glow of magic coming from the front door, Zelena felt quite satisfied that their escape would be a success.

"Good, she's busy. We'll have to sneak out the back," Zelena suggested, turning over her shoulder to the pirate who shuffled dejectedly a step behind.

"I'm not coming with you," he grumbled, his eyes fixed on the front door, knowing whatever was happening out there, Emma was the cause.

"Are you joking?" Zelena asked with quizzical disbelief. "I actually keep my word and you decide to go down with the ship?" She was not hiding her disgust well.

"If I don't stop Emma, she'll just find somebody else to put her darkness into, and if I leave now, I may never get the answers I need.

"And how are you going to get them? I don't think she's in a sharing mood," Zelena quipped.

"Emma stole squid ink from Gold's shop. If I can find it, then I can get her to tell me what I want."

"Well then, you better hope she doesn't find you first. Ta-ta."

With a quick skip, Zelena was moving to the back door, slipping out — unscathed — leaving Hook to begin his search.

He pulls open the desk drawer in the corner and rummages through a few compartments before his gaze lifts to the framed photograph above it. Birch trees in the snow. And there's something he finds — or feels — is suspicious about it, and he lifts it up and off of the wall determinedly, half expecting to find a hidden compartment in the wall — because that's what the Crocodile would do.

But the wall is blank and there's no sign of any trap door beneath it. Disappointed, he sets the frame down, leaning it against an arm chair, ready to move into the next room to continue his search — but he looks up and she's there, sword in hand, and anger in her eyes.

"Really," she asked with angry disappointment. "I was trying to help you."

"Swan," he breathed out, hoping he would be able to reason with her. But the thought is quickly banished from his mind because she is the Dark One, after all.

A quick glance away from her was all he needed. The dark vile of squid ink was taped crudely to the backside of the frame, and though he hesitated briefly, he reached for it in a single, swift movement, uncorking it with his thumb. He wasted no time in flinging the dark liquid in her direction.

"I'm sorry love," he apologized, watching as the magic spread out in the air, covering her, and binding her where she stood. "You've left me no choice. Regina was right."

He could see the sting of those words, how they settled over her like irritating burrs leaving a rash in their wake. But he continued.

"You are a villain now. And now you're going to tell me exactly what happened in Camelot to make you that way."

"How are you going to make me do that," she asked, ignoring the hurt he'd just caused her.

"I've got some ideas," Zelena's sing-song voice announced her return. "I see you've found the squid ink, Captain," she noted gesturing slightly with her chin to where Emma was frozen in place.

"Zelena, why the hell did you come back," he asked in a low, gravelly voice.

"I thought about how you said you couldn't run until you got some answers, and I realized — I couldn't run, either. Not without making the Dark One pay."

And Emma had much to answer for. Because despite how this had all begun, it ended with her, losing a child.

"Whatever you think you're doing…" Emma began, and as her eyes followed Zelena — because no other part of her could — she felt her stomach drop. Behind the witch's back was a dagger.

No sooner had Emma shouted "NO!", Zelena was bringing the blade up and thrusting it down into Hook's chest.

He grunted, crying out at the impact, but already he could feel that something wasn't right.

Zelena only laughed and stepped back, watching more questions fill the pirate's mind.

"I bet you didn't see that coming, did you?" Zelena laughed darkly. "Of course, that's nothing compared to the surprise that you're feeling right now. You're saying to yourself - 'I just got stabbed in the chest. Why, shouldn't it hurt more? Why am I not dead?'" Zelena taunted.

"What the hell is happening," Hook asked, and he was more afraid of the truth than the infinite and overwhelming possibilities.

"ANSWER ME, WITCH!" he shouted angrily at Zelena, because he could tell by the look in her eye that she knew — she knew.

"Well, you could take my word.." she began speaking to Hook, but her head was already turning to Emma. "Or…you could return the memories that the dark one stole. See for yourself," she hummed, quite pleased with herself, as she held up a dreamcatcher.

"I found this outside," she crooned, dangling it tauntingly between Emma and Hook.

"Don't trust her," Emma whispered. But it didn't matter what she said now. She could see in his eyes that the trust he had for Emma Swan was being replaced with distrust of the Dark One. "I can explain everything, Killian…"

But he paid her little attention, greedy eyes settling on the dreamcatcher in Zelena's hand. "Do it."

Zelena activated it in an instant, and it glowed golden yellow as the memories of the missing time in Camelot played before his eyes.

It was everyone together inside Granny's in the center of Camelot's forest. Merlin and Emma were preparing to ignite the Spark, to destroy the darkness once and for all. She lit the flame with magic, and lifted the dagger together with Excalibur, joining them together — but then Hook is recoiling in pain, and his neck wound is reopening, and everyone is in panic.

He's lying on the ground, bleeding and crying out in pain — and Emma can't understand why it's happening because she had healed this wound, caused by Excalibur, in the woods days ago.

But Merlin steps in, and he's saying something about the cut being deeper than the flesh. It had cut into his mortal soul. And a wound from that blade cannot be healed. Emma's power isn't strong enough to heal it — and neither is Merlin's. But Emma refuses to believe it, to accept it.

And she won't.

Ignoring the cries of her friends and family, begging her not to do anything rash, Emma transports herself and Hook to a field of flowers. Even Hook is begging her not to do what he thinks she wants to, because he had tasted darkness before. It had taken a lifetime to push away. And she was going to undo it all, just for the chance to be together a few years longer.

Emma's face is red and swollen, and she's sobbing as she watches the life drain out of his face. And she lifts Excalibur in the air until it glows, spindles of dark magic beginning to flow out from the hilt until there is nothing but black. It's flowing over Hook's body and into him and around him — and then he is gone.

And the blade is no longer inscribed just "Emma Swan". It's "Killian Jones", too.

A second Dark One is born.

The dreamcatcher's memories are emptied, and Hook is left on unsteady feet, shaken to his core. He barely registers Emma's apologies, her begging him to understand that she had no other choice.

"Aww, are you finding the truth hard to swallow," Zelena asked with a grin, picking up Excalibur and holding it out to him. "Here. Have a look at the sword. Glamour spell," she said giddily.

"Now. Tell me," Zelena hummed, still dangling the dreamcatcher from her fingers. "Are you ready to learn what else happened in Camelot…"


	8. Chapter 8

Whatever else happened in Camelot didn't really matter. Not now. But it didn't stop Hook from taking the rest of Emma's memories from her. He didn't need answers, but he was sure someone would. With his prize in hand, Hook disappeared from the Dark Swan's living room, Zelena transporting herself elsewhere. As soon as the squid ink ran out, the spell that Emma had cast keeping Snow, David and Regina in their place dissolved, leaving them free to move once ore.

"EMMA!" Regina called out, unsure of what had transpired within that home, but certain that it was nothing good.

"I'll check the basement," Snow insisted as she rushed in, panic written in her eyes.

"I'll get the upstairs," Regina added, already whizzing past Snow in the small entryway.

No one got very far. Emma was lying down on the couch in the living room, stiff and uncomfortable. After helping her to sit up, turning on the lights, and getting her a mug of tea, Snow had begun to gently prod for answers. There was no use hiding anything now. The truth was out, and Killian would likely be keying everyone into her secret.

"You turned Hook into a Dark One," Regina asked in disbelief. Her tone was that of a disapproving mother, and it was not lost on her how much she sounded like Cora in that one simple phrase — and she didn't like it.

Clearing her throat, she tried again, changing her tone, if only slightly.

"And you didn't think of the consequences to everyone else?" she asked, crossing her ankles from her place on the opposite end of the couch.

"I couldn't just let him die. You can understand that," Emma replied through gritted teeth. But she wasn't half as threatening as she hoped. And her eyes lost some of their steely anger when her gaze fell to Regina's middle.

Her scarf was caught over the edge of her coat, and her blouse was pressed tightly against the curve of her belly, showing more than just a hint of the life she carried.

Regina noticed Emma's line of sight and shifted uncomfortably, adjusting her coat and scarf — and mentioning nothing.

"Well, yes, but…" she began, because she could absolutely understand — she had begged Emma to use her dark magic to save Robin's life in Camelot, because living without your soul mate was not living at all.

Letting out a sigh, she licked her lips and settled into the realization that she would not have done anything differently in Emma's position.

"Now we have a bigger problem," she prodded gently.

"I know," Emma admitted. "I didn't think any of this would happen. I was trying to get rid of the darkness for good. You can't tell me, after all Zelena's done to you, your life wouldn't be easier if she were gone." Emma's tone had grown louder, bolder by the end of that statement. And her eyes were on Regina's middle once more.

"I was doing you a favor," she added, her brow lifting and nudging her head forward on her neck, challenging Regina to say she wanted it otherwise.

Regina took in a breath and just stared back into Emma's eyes with a knowing sadness. Because she was right. She did want this. Even with all the complexity it came with. And her hand moved to press against the small swell.

"Come on," Snow groaned softly, regrettably. "This is premeditated murder, Emma. There had to be another way. You should have come to us."

Emma and Snow continued to bicker about what the best way to handle this situation would have been, but Regain was only half listening anymore. Her stomach felt unsettled. And while she was grateful that the ache of overworked muscles had finally (mostly) diminished, she was beginning to wonder if this was worse. Every pregnancy book she'd flipped through insisted that morning sickness dissipated by the fourteenth week, but her she was approaching her fifteenth with no relief in sight. She supposed the authors of those books had likely never taken into consideration a magically transported pregnancy.

"Sorry," Regina breathed out, standing quickly and quite obviously loosing her balance. "I'm…" she began, but she only shook her head, certain that if she kept her mouth open any longer to speak, she would be loosing her lunch all over the Dark One's coffee table. She took a step toward the doorway, but realized suddenly she had no idea where the bathroom was in this house — she'd never received an invitation to the Dark Swan's housewarming.

"Second door on the left," Snow announced without the need for any further prompt, pointing behind her head to signal it's general location. As Regina's heels clip-clapped hurriedly down the hall, the door closing abruptly behind her, the quiet living room was suddenly filled with the muffled sounds of retching. Snow's eyes went wide as she let out a sigh, and her gaze shifted to her daughter.

"And then there's that," she added, knowing that this pregnancy was the elephant in the room. Everyone was staring at it and no one was saying a word. Least of all in regards to the initiator.

"What," Emma asked shortly, turning to look at her mother.

"Are we going to talk about that? That baby didn't come from nowhere."

"No, it didn't."

"That baby came from…." Snow began, dragging her words out, hoping Emma would fill in the blanks.

"I think you know very well where that baby came from," Emma replied, uninterested in her mother's attempts to solidify her suspicions.

"Well," she breathed out heavily, crossing her arms and leaning back in the arm chair. "I can't say it wasn't a creative solution," she admitted.

"No, I suppose not," Emma said evenly, her lips stiff and her posture matching. She mentioned nothing of this being Henry's idea.

Regina returned with slow unsteady steps, standing — and staying — behind the couch, steadying herself against the back. She swallowed back the lingering feeling of bile rising in her throat and let out a sigh.

"Right now, we have to clean up this mess."

Snow and Emma just stared, wondering if Regina had jumped immediately back into the conversation, or if there was a mess to clean up after her lost match with morning sickness.

"Give us back our memories," Snow suggested after a pause. "Your dreamcatchers. Regina can access them, can't she?" she asked gesturing to the woman whose color was only just beginning to return to her cheeks.

"We can piece together Hook's plan and stop him."

"Afraid not." David's voice startled all three of them, as they'd clearly forgotten he had been present at all. "The dreamcatchers you said were in the shed…they're gone."

"What the hell is Captain Dark One up to?" Regina asked with an annoyed sigh, the sudden breath stirring her stomach up once more.

* * *

Hook had paid Gold a visit at his shop, and challenged him to a duel — predictable, Regina thought, rolling her eyes as she welcomed the usual players into her breakfast room.

Seated around the table were Snow, Charming, Belle, and Gold — and Emma stood, the proud new owner of the leather cuff, which currently graced her wrist, binding her magic as it had Zelena's.

"Once a pirate, always a pirate," she sighed, examining the cutlass Gold had brought with him from his shop.

No one remarked on the fact that Regina was wearing a coat and scarf inside her own home.

"As a man, Hook spent centuries trying to kill me. It makes sense that revenge would be on his mind," Gold shrugged — because a death threat was nothing new for him. But a death threat when he was no longer the Dark One wasn't.

"Why wipe my memories if he was going to announce his plan anyway," Emma asked, wondering what underlying motives he could have. "There must be more to it."

"Yeah, well, even if there is, we only have until noon to stop him," Belle replied. "And to save you," she added, resting her hand on Rumple's forearm.

"Merlin said that Nimue was the key to stopping the Dark One," Snow remembered.

The conversation shifted then, to recalling everything they could about Merlin's love, the First Dark One. And then to how Emma could be a better help if they would just let her remove the cuff.

The unease in the room was palpable.

"You don't trust me," Emma realized aloud, and she meant it for everyone.

Henry entered the room and eyed his mothers — first Emma, then Regina.

"So it's true. You're here." he said quietly, disappointment oozing from him.

Emma would be lying if she said it didn't sting — particularly because they shared the secret of their cleverly (and seamlessly) executed plan. And she had to fight the dark part of her that wanted to reveal it to everyone then and there.

"Henry," she hummed, holding her arm out to him. "I need you tell them it's okay to take off this cuff," she said, offering a smile as if this would be the easiest transaction in the world.

"No."

"What?" she asked, her eyes wide and anger bubbling — because her emotions were not all her own.

"You lied to us — about Hook, about everything," he said with a tight jaw. He could feel his cheeks flushing. For all of the lies — for all of the truth she had hidden from them, Henry was ashamed. He had used her when she was convenient, and now he was hanging her out to dry. He never thought himself capable of that. But he had never felt so betrayed in his life.

The weeks she had stolen from them all were nothing compared to the favor she had done him in giving his mother a chance at happiness. Such was the logic of a teenage boy. But unfortunately for them all, he was a teenage boy at the center of a very atypical adolescence.

"Henry, I'm your mother," she begged him, heartbroken that he would not side with her.

"Are you? Because the mom I knew wouldn't keep things from me."

Regina's eyes lowered to her lap — because she'd been here before, on the other side of this argument. She had been the mother who had kept things from him, who had convinced him he was crazy rather than admit his story book was the truth — that she was a villain. All of that seemed so far away now. Her hand moved to cover her belly beneath the table, silently promising that those days would remain far away.

"So you can forgive Regina and Gold for everything they've done, but not me? After everything I've done for you," Emma asked angrily, her words biting — because she had done so much, risked so much, to give him what he asked for.

"We were a team," Henry lamented. And a week ago, they had been. But that was then.

"Now you just want your dark magic back so you can do it alone," he gritted, knowing her intentions were to stop Hook's plan on her own. "And I've seen what you do with dark magic."

His words hung heavy in the air as he turned and stormed out of the room. He'd meant to express his hurt at how she had handled Zelena after the pregnancy had been transported, and how she handled his mother and grandparents when they tried to help, and how she handled Hook and all the secrecy and outright lies.

And she knew that.

But it didn't stop her from turning to look at Regina then, regretting the favor she'd done. Because it was costing her a son.

Everyone's eyes were on Regina, then, and the Queen could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. Because everyone knew and no one had said anything.

Snow sensed the panic in Regina, and the open ended question in the room, and stood, offering a smile and politely suggesting they break for some tea — which was ridiculous because they were talking about saving Rumple from certain death, and they really hadn't made any headway at all.

"I'm pregnant," Regina blurted out, feeling suddenly suffocated by the secret. It was a breath of relief to say it out loud. To end the constant questioning in everyone's eyes.

Snow feigned surprise for a brief moment, but caught sight of Regina's rolling eyes and quickly realized that wasn't necessary.

"You're what," Rumple asked dryly — because he knew Regina's history, and knew the potion she'd taken to spite her mother.

"I'm pregnant. I'm…carrying…" she began to explain, her gaze moving to Emma, searching for support in her explanation. She found none, and Regina really couldn't blame her after the altercation that had just taken place between she and Henry.

"It was Zelena's," Emma offered coldly, knowing that this would be enough of a dig at Regina to feel satisfied that she'd hurt her — just enough. "I wanted the baby out of the way so that I could pour my darkness into Zelena without any unnecessary casualties," she explained.

The sterility of her explanation cut like a knife — because this blessing that Regina was so protective of, this miracle of magic that she could never have imagined or herself in her wildest dreams, was really just about convenience.

"So now, it's Regina's." Emma stated matter-of-factly.

"We uh…should really be getting to the library," Belle cut in, already standing to put her coat on. Rumple followed, then Snow and then David, all filing out as quickly as possible to escape the stifling awkwardness in the room.

But Regina stood, too. "I've got a stop to make first," she said softly, pushing her chair in and avoiding Emma's gaze.

She left the room, leaving Emma arguing with her parents about trust. She didn't care to step into that conversation. Her mind was otherwise occupied.

* * *

"Where's my baby," Zelena spat angrily, standing toe to toe with her sister outside of Town Hall. Zelena's eyes were already dropping to Regina's middle, her blood boiling. "That's MY baby," she roared.

"She's Robin's. And now she's mine, too," Regina replied calmly, despite the pounding of her heart in her chest.

Perhaps this had been a mistake — but Emma's confession had confirmed her own suspicions — that Zelena's baby was now growing inside of her, and Regina felt she owed her sister at least an explanation. At least that.

"And you will never take her away from us," Regina promised, her posture stiff and threatening.

"You just can't stand that after a lifetime of you getting everything, it was finally my turn," Zelena screeched. She had intended to sound much more angry, but it was all coming out as petulant whining.

"The only reason you had this baby is because you killed Marian, and you deceived Robin in the most vile way imaginable," Regina gritted out, her jaw clenched in anger at even the briefest thought of what she'd done.

Zelena only laughed and smiled, clearly proud of what she'd done — all in an effort to ruin Regina's life.

"Is that a compliment," the green-clad witch asked, wild eyes going wide.

Regina's eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, as if trying to peer behind the icy blue stare of her sister. Because there was no way she was that insane.

"This insanity has to stop," Regina insisted, her voice soft, in the way you talk a mad man off a ledge.

"Agreed," Zelena sang, her eyes growing bleary with unshed tears. "But I don't think it can."

"Actually, I think maybe it can…"

* * *

Regina led her sister up the brick steps to her home on Mifflin Street, and warned her before they crossed the threshold that while Zelena's powers may be back, Regina assuredly still had hers as well.

Zelena rolled her eyes and stepped up and into the house, her heels clicking against the tiled foyer. Together they made their way into the study, where Robin was waiting, thumbing mindlessly through a thick, red chapter book entitled "The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood." He let it slap shut when Regina entered, and he stood up nervously when Zelena was behind her.

Despite having talked about this together at length with Regina, seeing the redhead in person was somewhat jarring.

"Did you miss me?" Zelena asked, cocking her head to the side with a smile.

Her sister's pettiness was overwhelmingly annoying, and Regina's eyes rolled so far to the side, she earned herself a headache.

"Told you. Once you go Green, you never go Queen."

That remark had Regina spinning on her heel, her hand raised to use magic before she could even think. But her opposite hand caught it, and she breathed out heavily — because this is not why she asked her sister here.

"Regina," Robin cooed, stepping towards her and laying a hand against her back to soothe her. "We talked about this," he hummed, reminding her of all the preparation they'd done, all the groundwork they'd laid.

"Couples therapy?" Zelena asked with a grin. "I should imagine you two need that now."

"Let me remind you of something," Regina hissed. "As wicked as you may think you are, you're not even in my league."

That statement shook Zelena, and while she did well to hide it, her wicked grin was fading.

"I've spent so many years doing terrible…terrible things. Beyond your imagination. But you know how I turned it around? she asked, her voice — and her eyes — going softer.

"Henry."

Zelena balked at this, and if she weren't so damned irritated by this pep talk, which sounded more like Snow White and less like Regina, she might have eluded to the fact that her chance to be changed by a child had been ripped from her.

"He made me my best self," Regina pressed on. "And I'm hoping that kind of unconditional love will do the same for you. You're family, Zelena. Despite everything. Our mother took that away from us before we even had a chance."

"I was like you. But I changed. Because I surrounded myself with people who loved me — in spite of my dark past. They helped me change. And that's my hope for you."

"Make no mistake, Zelena. We were never going to be a family — you and the baby and I," Robin chimed in, standing firm at Regina's side. "But Regina and I have agreed — you deserve the same second chance that we were both given. We want to welcome you in — as long as you're willing to do your part. Against our best instincts…we still have hope for you. So. You can visit with the child, when that time comes. As long as one of us is present."

He hated it, and he knew Regina did, too. But despite the horrific way it came to be, Zelena was the biological mother.

Zelena looked as though she were about to cry, her eyes lowering to the curve of Regina's belly peeking out from beneath her scarf. And she nodded. Because this was the best she could have hoped for. And she knew it. She agreed to the terms, and turned to go, seeing herself to the front door and leaving in silence.

Regina stared at the door after it closed for too long, playing every moment of their encounter back to herself. She let out a heavy breath and pulled at the scarf around her neck, dropping it carelessly to the floor. She removed her coat hurriedly, her breath growing rapid and shallow. And she pressed her hands protectively over her belly, turning to lean into Robin's chest as his arms went around her, pulling her in close. She was crying openly, her eyes slamming closed.

This was the right thing to do. It was the right choice. But that didn't soften the blow. Regina was being forced to share another child with another mother. Again.


	9. Chapter 9

Hook was the Dark One, too, and the town wasted weeks going back and forth while the Dark Lovers took turns stealing each others memories, snatching dreamcatchers and otherwise causing chaos in the name of revenge — or the greater good — depending who you asked. At a point, Emma and Henry had the chance to smooth things over, joining forces once again, united under 'Operation: Cobra Part Two'.

Regina was glad for the distraction.

Twenty weeks and her bouts of morning sickness were showing no sign of lessening. If anything, she found herself being more cautious, taking her time in leaving her house in the morning, making sure her stomach had fully settled before making her appearance in the office at Town Hall.

Robin and Roland had moved in — "To help look after you," he insisted, as if an excuse were even necessary — and Regina had protested the need for any such thing, but in all honesty, was eager to share some normalcy in this relationship.

She was beginning to show now, and the scarves were failing in their intended purposes. Though, thanks to a single remark — in passing, even — to Leroy, the entire town now knew. There was really no sense in hiding anything.

Sitting at the table in the breakfast room, Regina was focused. Papers were neatly piled around her, and she scrawled out notes on a yellow pad, her palm pressed against the corner of the page.

She was dressed fully, and completely put together, even in her own home. The only sign of comfort were the black heels tipped on their side beneath the chair, stockinged feet playing mindlessly over the leather insoles.

"What are you working on?" Robin asked — and when Regina looked up, she was at first startled, but her features softened into a smile when she recognized by his posture that he had been standing there for a while, staring.

Licking her lips, she took in a breath and looked back down at the work in front of her, letting out an exhale and shaking her head.

"Half of this is approving and filing permits for the town," she explained, digging her foot around until she found her shoe's correct orientation, slipping one foot in, and then the other.

"The other half is a protection spell — for Emma. In case she needs it," Regina offered, lifting herself up from the chair to stand.

Her stark black, perfectly tailored blazer was inglorious contrast to the bright red dress she wore, its silhouette tailored exquisitely to hug every curve of her — one in particular was more noticeable as of late.

"You're beautiful," Robin remarked, still leaned against the doorway, arms and ankles crossed, his eyes moving over every inch of her.

She had already stepped away from the table as his words fell over her, and she blushed, the clicking of her heels quieting as she slowed her steps.

Robin crossed the space between them, his hands sliding from the sides of her waist, around her back, pulling her in to press against himself. With one arm wrapped lovingly at her back, the other was traveling still, his palm splaying open as it came to meet flush with her belly.

Regina looked down and let out a breath, her hand moving to grab hold of his wrist — because her instinct was to stop him, because she still battled the feelings that she didn't deserve this — his affection or this child. But she didn't stop him. She just held her hand against his arm and let him touch her.

Without requiring any sign from her in particular, Robin leaned in and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, resting his chin there as he tucked her in closer still — because he knew her thoughts as well as he knew his own. She was fighting inside, always fighting. And now, he was sure, she was fighting thoughts of unworthiness, of doubt and sadness. And he was determined to fight alongside her — and for her — and win.

* * *

Lying on her back, Regina was staring blankly at the ceiling tiles of the hospital room, one arm draped above her head, the other held tightly in Robin's as they waited. She was in her own trousers, but bare above the waist, a paper hospital gown doing little to keep the goosebumps at bay.

She felt vulnerable. More so now than perhaps ever. Because this vulnerability wasn't just about her. There was a baby, a human life she was responsible for. And the responsibility was multi-layered and crushing. She was a vessel, she thought to herself more often than she cared to admit. A vessel that was carrying something precious — a child — that didn't quite belong to her. But it did. And it didn't.

Regina's eyes stung, and she blinked it away, crinkling her nose to rid herself of the tingling that always signaled she was about to lose a battle with her tears. She felt Robin's hand tighten in her own, and she turned to look at him, finding reassurance in his eyes, his smile.

She could see he was about to ask her — to prod, to understand her better — what she was thinking. But the rapid knock on the door saved her from having to divulge, and she breathed out and forced a smile.

"Okay," Whale practically sang, clapping his hands together once, then rubbing them quickly — and he looked like a hungry wolf when he did it.

"Let's get a look at Baby Mills, shall we?" he asked with an inappropriate amount of gusto.

"Hood." Regina corrected him quietly. "Baby Hood."

Multilayered. Complicated.

"Right," Whale agreed, but his disinterest was evident. He was already snapping his gloves on and flipping the switch up on the monitor, rolling it even closer to the bedside. Grabbing his wheeled stool with practiced ease, he plopped down and grabbed a squirt bottle of gel from the cart in a showy display of machismo.

Regina glared at him, thinking he was more suited for the back of a bar than a hospital.

The gel was cold against her bare belly and Regina flinched, her muscles tensing. Lying on her back, the curve of her was far less pronounced, though Regina noted that her navel was beginning to look less like a hole and more like a shallow divot.

The sonogram wand pressed in firmly against her flesh, and Regina turned to the monitor, her heart stilling in her chest. Her thumb was absentmindedly running back and forth over the back of Robin's palm, and she was only half aware that his opposite hand had come to rest over her shoulder.

Silence.

Regina breathed in and held it.

"I haven't felt it move yet," she admitted softly, her skin growing cold.

She was waiting for it. Waiting for Whale to say there was no heartbeat, or that there was nothing at all. Her chest grew tight and her eyes filled to the brim with tears, feeling Whale move the wand up and down and side to side.

But then he pulled it back, wiped it clean on the hanging towel slung over the handle of the cart, and he was diving in again — this time starting lower. He was quiet. And the room was still.

Silence.

Robin's hand began to trail down her arm from her shoulder, and she knew he was offering extra support — and she hated it. She didn't want comfort now. She wanted to disappear. To melt into the hospital bed with its scratchy sheets and rustling tissue paper and squeaking plastic — and cease to exist.

She let out an exhale, gripping the pillow behind her head, clinging to anything tangible, making sure this was reality and not a nightmare — but her nightmares were often reality.

Silence.

And then —

The whirring sound came over the speaker and shattered every fear in Regina's heart. She gasped for breath and let it out again in a shaky sob, her hand twitching in Robin's because she was certain this would have been the end of it all — her glimmer of happiness, gone.

"There we go," Whale announced happily, holding the wand steady over the sweet spot, just to the side of her hip bone. "Lookin' good, Baby Hood."

Regina didn't even care that his rhyme was idiotic — right now, she loved it. And she laughed and closed her eyes tightly, thanking anyone who cared to hear her thoughts, her tears rolling heavy down her cheeks.

"Good, strong heartbeat," the doctor promised, reaching forward with his free hand to joyfully slap a button, freezing the image for them to take home.

"It's okay? It's safe?" Regina asked, choking quietly on her own words, her mouth dry.

"Perfectly good looking baby girl," he promised, wincing at his own admission.

"Sorry," he grimaced, one eye open and pained, the other slammed shut as though he were waiting for a punch to the face. "Hope you wanted to know the gender…"

When no punch came, Whale nodded and peeled off his gloves. "Go ahead and get dressed. We'll get you these snapshots on your way out. Don't need to see you again for another month unless you need something," he smiled on his way out the door, already whistling some obnoxious tune, his mind on his next patient.

Regina was silent, staring at the now black screen of the monitor. A girl.

When she had rid herself of her blurry vision, the last tear now dripping off of her jaw, she turned to look at him. And he was crying, too.

"A girl," he breathed out, and the joy was evident in his eyes. "Regina, a girl…"

The way he said her name, the way he kept repeating 'a girl', over and over — it made her feel like she had done something right. There was something to be happy about. And it was her happiness. Her joy. She wasn't watching through a window while Snow and Charming beamed over their latest triumph — always on the outside, looking in.

She was in. This was hers.

"A girl."


	10. Chapter 10

They were all standing in Regina's office— Emma, Henry, Snow, Charming, Robin and Merida — the familiarity of the stark black and white marble against black and white walls comforting to some and unsettling to others (mainly Merida, who was so new to this town and these people). Each with a dreamcatcher in hand. Emma had managed to find where Hook had hidden them — hidden them from her, Emma thought grimly. But she didn't feel she had the right to be angry. Because she'd done the same thing weeks earlier.

"We're meant to believe you're going to give back our memories, just like that," Merida asked, sarcasm rumbling low in her thick Scottish brogue.

"We can trust her," Henry insisted, his voice pleading. Because if there was any chance to get through the future ahead, they had to start somewhere. These broken bonds had to be repaired. And Emma was trying.

"Can we?" Regina asked aloud — and she regretted it. It was rhetorical, and hadn't meant to show the fractured trust between them to everyone.

"Yes," Emma replied firmly, and simply.

And Regina looked into Emma's eyes for a moment, and her tense frame loosened somewhat. She believed her.

"Okay," she said softly, her eyes squinting, flinching, because she never expected to be on this side of things — being the one who was leading the group in deciding who should or should not be trusted. She never expected so much of what was currently happening.

Each of them held their dreamcatcher out before them, and with a wave of her uncured hand, Emma released the memories she had taken — and Hook had stolen.

The events that had unfolded in Camelot weeks ago were unfolding once more before their eyes, and all eyes were on Emma.

"I remember," she breathed out — and there was fear in her eyes, raw and unfiltered.

That was enough to shake every one of them. Because the Dark One should never be afraid.

"I know what he's doing — I know what they're doing," she corrected herself instantly — because it wasn't just Hook. It was all of them. All of the Dark Ones from before them.

* * *

"Congratulations," the glittering imp said giddily from beside Hook, staring out at the pond before them. Rumplestilskin may have been only a figment of the Dark One's imagination, but his presence was so oppressive, so visceral, he may as well have actually been there.

"You returned from your duel with exactly the right ingredients for our plan," he sang with a twisted grin. "The blood of a man who'd been to hell and back."

"Rumplestilskin has done what few can claim. He died. And then he returned. This pond," he announced gesturing flamboyantly at the murky water, a fog rolling in over the surface. "Holds a portal to the underworld itself."

"This is where the Fury tried to drag Robin to Hell," Hook remembered aloud.

"I thought the portal only appeared when the moon reaches its zenith," he stated quizzically, turning to the shadow of the Dark One for answers.

"Yes, for a Fury," he stated with obvious annoyance.

"But it's always existed, Dearie. You just have to know how to open it."

The shadow reached down and touched Killian's hook, dipping a finger in to the smear of blood and nodding.

Hook understood well enough and with an eye roll, he stepped forward, crouched down, and dipped the metal hook into the dark waters.

The surface rippled, disturbed by some unseen entity, and changed from muddy brown to crimson. Fog was rolling in faster now, and parted to reveal a boat, captained by a cloaked figure. The sight was menacing and dark, and the air buzzed with deep, dark evil.

"Bloody Hell," Hook breathed out.

"That's exactly where that came from," the shadow replied, grinning and giddy, pleased with his joke.

The figure drew closer, walking on the surface of the water now with ease. Hook narrowed his eyes in curiosity as the hood was pushed back, revealing Nimue — the First Dark One.

"We're here," she announced calmly, a smile on her lips. "All of us. As promised. In the flesh. And now it's time to get to work, to do what Dark Ones do best — snuff out the light."

She turned behind her, and the ship was now full of hooded figures — every incarnation of the Dark One that had come to be since the dawn of time.

"Welcome to Storbrooke, love."

* * *

With an understanding now of Hook's plan, urgency was in Emma's every step as she marched away from the Mayor's office at Town Hall and down the main street, her mother and father, her son, and Regina and Robin trailing behind.

"Emma, slow down. We need to talk about this. We need a plan," David begged, hurrying to keep up with his daughter's unnaturally long gait.

Regina looked over at him and frowned — that's all the Charmings ever wanted to do. Talk. Talking had rarely gotten her anywhere, especially when a very real threat was already mobilized against them.

"The plan is to find Hook before he resurrects all of the Dark Ones. You think dealing with one is bad…" she replied with a fire in her eyes.

"There's more than one Dark One?!" Leroy's panicked voice was suddenly behind them, their group growing by six.

"It's a long story," David replied with a certain curtness in his tone because there was no time for explanations.

"Well it don't matter, there's seven of us!" Leroy reminded them gruffly.

"Six. Dopey's still a tree.." Happy reminded him — and he was too stupid to realize his comments were unwanted.

"We may be down a dwarf, but we're ready to fight," Grumpy insisted, his bottom row of teeth bared beneath his thick beard.

"We won't have to, I'm going to take care of this," Emma promised, still marching at the head of the pack, not waiting for any of them to keep up.

"Think you can talk him out of this?" David asked, genuinely hopeful.

Regina turned her head again, her hand still held in Robin's since they'd left Town Hall — she shot David a look of disbelief and anger and for the fifth time in as many minutes, she cursed the fact that she was surrounded by dimwits.

"There's no talking," Regina snapped, her gaze locked on Snow's husband. "We have to hit him with everything we've got."

Robin grabbed her arm and pulled her a little closer at that, his eyes full of worry. "Regina," he begged softly, but he didn't press further.

"Well it's not his fault," Snow chimed in. "He didn't want to become the Dark One."

And that statement was just as painful to Emma now as the decision making had been back in Camelot. But it was his life, she thought, still trying to justify it.

"But he did. Because of me," Emma finished the thought her mother had begun. "None of that matters anymore," she said with the shake of her head, and she stopped in her tracks, turning to face the group that was following her.

"Regina's right. We need to hit him with everything," she agreed, locking eyes with the woman with whom she shared a son.

"No matter how hard this might be," Emma relented, her eyes lowering to the ground. "We need to split up, find him.. and stop him. No matter what it takes."

* * *

"Come on. This is the fastest way to the harbor," Robin said breathlessly, his arrow drawn, taut against his bow, keeping Regina to the inside of the alley. He didn't want her out here at all, but there was no use in thinking about anything but protecting her now.

"And you think we'll find Hook just sipping rum by the sea?" Regina asked, her tone more annoyed than she truly intended. But this was her defense against the unknown, and against fear. Because she was afraid. Because for all the battles she had fought and won and lost — she'd never had to do it while protecting a life inside her. And she knew Robin was thinking the same.

Her heels clicked against the pavement, her camelhair coat flowing behind her with each hurried step. At least she still felt somewhat herself.

"He's not exactly a pirate anymore," she reminded him, shooting a glance to Robin that was filled with disappointment. Because she didn't have a better idea.

"Once a pirate, always a pirate," Robin replied, stepping just ahead of her as they neared the opposite end of the alley, the harbor house in front of them. They would be in the open in just a few steps, and Robin wasn't taking any chances. "Take it from a reformed thief. Old habits die hard."

"They certainly do," the familiar voice came from the green cloud of smoke that appeared just steps in front of them both.

Robin's bow was up in an instant, his aim true. "Careful who you sneak up on," he growled, not moving to lower his weapon.

"Get out of our way, Zelena," Regina sighed. "We don't have time for this." And she was stepping forward, pushing past her sister.

"I'd like to have a little chat about my daughter," Zelena insisted, stepping to the side, blocking their path.

" _My_ daughter," Robin replied angrily, needing to assert himself here — because Zelena barely had any ground here at all.

"About that," she sneered. "I've worked up a teeny alteration to our custody arrangement. I've decided to grant myself sole custody. See, I'd like to raise her by myself without you two getting in the way. I'm going to teach her to be wicked." She whispered the last part, her smile growing, wild eyes bulging.

Robin leaned in with his drawn arrow and only a small part of him was thinking of lowering it. Every fiber of his being was begging him to loose it directly between her eyes, to rid them all of her presence once and for all.

"You try and take my daughter from us…" he growled, stepping in front of Regina — because he would not allow Zelena to lay a hand on Regina as long as he was alive.

Zelena only laughed — and it enraged them both.

"Oh, come on," she gasped for breath in between laughs. "There's no point in us fighting about it. Because…soon enough you'll both be dead, and…." Zelena's blue eyes were lowering to Regina's belly, noting that the curve had grown and was now pressing against the thin seam at the waist of her dress.

"…And then I can just take her." Her eyes glittered as if she were going to reach into Regina right then and there and rip her child out.

Regina tensed, because she wouldn't put any of it past her deranged sister, and she found herself covering her abdomen with both her hands, careful steps backing up — and hating herself for insisting on wearing heels.

"What do you mean 'we'll be dead'," Regina asked, and her tone lacked the fight that she had meant for it to possess.

"Ask them," Zelena grinned, nudging her chin out to gesture behind them.

Regina turned on her heel and stumbled back into Robin — two hooded figures walked slowly toward them, showing no sign of stopping, or of even noticing their presence. She kept a hand at her belly, as if that alone would keep her child safe, the other flailing, frantically grasping at Robin's jacket.

He stepped in front of her without hesitation, arrow drawn once more. "Dark One. Stand back!" he shouted — and Regina believed, if only for a moment, that his determination would be enough.

But the two figures simply pressed on, walking — passing right through them both.

The sensation was unsettling to say the least, and Regina found herself shaking, stumbling to her side, a hand moving to brace herself against the brick wall of the alleyway. She breathed out heavily, nausea returning and head spinning — and she might have given in then, let her knees buckle just for the relief of sitting on solid ground, but —

"MOM! Help me!" Henry's voice cried out, and Regina was no longer thinking of herself. She turned and breathed in deeply, hoping it was enough to keep her from going down. She raced back down the alley and out towards Main Street in time to see another figure passing through her son.

Emma reached him first, and she knew he was safe for now, so she slowed her steps and found Robin at her side just in time. She grabbed hold of his arm and groaned softly, her opposite hand having never left the curve of her belly.

"What just happened to us…" Regina asked, still clinging to Robin as they slowly approached the group.

"Mom?" Henry asked, his worried eyes on Regina — on her belly.

"I think I may have the answer to that," Gold interrupted, heads turning towards his voice.

Henry stayed close to Regina, letting his body, Robin's and Emma's, become a barrier around her.

"Check your wrists," he suggested.

Regina reluctantly pulled her hand away from her middle and turned her wrist over, a circle, glowing faintly, with a symbol at its center. She looked to Robin as he checked his own, then over to Snow, to Charming.

"What is that," Emma asked with wide eyes.

"That's…the Mark of Charon," Gold announced defeatedly.

"Charon?" Henry asked.

Regina turned to her son and grabbed his wrist, turning it over to examine it for herself. Her heart ached. "Henry," she breathed out sadly, her eyes wide and full of sorrow.

"The Ferryman. In the old myths," Henry added, letting his mother hold onto his arm — because as much as this was a problem for all of them, he understood the added layer for Regina.

"He navigated a boat…to the Underworld," he recalled from his books.

"Smart lad," Gold replied only half mockingly. "You see, the Dark Ones only have a temporary pass into this world, like a — like a tourist visa. The only way for them to stay…is to trade places with living souls."

"Meaning us," David nodded.

"Exactly," Gold agreed.

"But…the baby," Regina whispered, not so quietly that no one heard.

Because as far as she understood, the baby wasn't marked. And the Underworld was a place for the dead. And she _had_ been marked. And minutes earlier, Zelena had threatened to take back the baby. And she was shaking now, at the fragility of it all, and how much she hated that this seemed to always be her lot in life.

But no one had an answer. So Henry stepped even closer, and wrapped his arm around her and rested his head on her shoulder, and wished he could promise that it would be okay. And Robin was staying strong, and had his hand at her hip, his thumb moving back and forth over the side of her belly.

"When the moon reaches its peak, the ferry from the Underworld will arrive…and drag us down there," Gold explained.

"Well, that doesn't sound good," David remarked.

Regina wanted to scream. IDIOT. How much clearer did it have to be that this was not the time for obvious remarks, laced with sarcasm — but then again, what was there to say. And David didn't have as much on the line, and everything always seemed to work out for him and Snow, regardless of how bleak things looked. But that was not the way the world worked for her. She silently forgave his stupidity, because he would never understand the risk. Because good always wins.

"Speaking as one who's died, and been there, it's not." Gold shot back, grimly.

"So how do we stop it," Regina asked, her voice bold and angry despite the weakness she felt inside.

"We can't," Gold assured her.

"The Underworld is worse than you can possibly imagine. It's going to make you wish the old stories of fire and brimstone were true. It's going to make you wish for death. And then the realization will hit — that death has already come, and this fresh torture is all that's left."

"Gold, you're scaring Henry," Emma interceded, placing her hands on her son's shoulders.

But that was only half true. He was scared, but not for himself. He was scared for his mother. He was scared for the baby. He was scared because he knew how these stories ended for villains — even when they had changed.

"Good. Because we should all be scared," Gold snapped back in reply. "This is death itself. This is a fight we cannot win."

"No," Emma agrued. "I'm not marked. I'm not going to give up. There has to be something we can do."

"You're right. There is something. Use this time wisely. Use it to say goodbye." With that, he turned and went back into his shop, slamming the door closed behind him, leaving the group in silence, and fear.

* * *

"Gold has to be missing something," Henry insisted quite desperately, plopping a stack of old texts down on top of the trunk full of Regina's old gowns.

Her vault was brightly lit by candles and torches, and despite what this place had once represented years ago, it felt like a haven now. Snow sat in front of Regina's chest of potion bottles, comforting her infant son in her arms. Emma was rifling through yellowed pages with ancient words scrawled over in them in fading ink.

"There has to be a way to escape this mark."

But instead of the usual speech about having Hope, Snow was silent. David was, too. Even Emma just stood there, lips unmoving, her eyes downcast and defeated.

"Mabye Gold's right," Snow suggested finally, breaking the unbearable silence. "Maybe this is a fight we can't win."

Tears were gathering at the rims of her eyes, and neither Henry nor Emma — nor David, for that matter — had ever heard her so devoid of hope.

"Mom," Emma whispered, the notion of a hopeless Snow White too much to bear. "You're Snow White. You don't know how to give up. Hope is in your blood," she reminded her gently, and the reminder was for herself, as well.

"And I do hope, Emma…" Snow promised, standing up and crossing the space between them. "But…I don't want to spend what could be my last moments with my nose in a book," she whispered, her lips quivering as she breathed in a choked sob. "I want to make the most of my moments with my family…"

"Dinner at Granny's," Henry suggested solemnly. "That's what we should do." Because Granny's was the heart of the town — the heart of their family. It was where so many victories had been celebrated, parties had been thrown. It was where Emma first invited Regina to be a part of their clan. It was where Emma shared her first hot cocoa and cinnamon with her son. It was where Snow and David had shared countless plates of fries over whispered conversations, back in the early days of the town, when their memories were just barely returned. Granny's was home. To all of them.

"Yeah," David agreed with a sad smile as he closed the book he'd been searching through. "Dinner at Granny's. That's a great idea." And what better way was there, really, to say goodbye — and to enjoy it — instead of staring out into the night, waiting for death to come. Because _life_ was lived there within those walls.

Life and laughter and love and tears and worry and reunions over the clinking of glasses and scraping of forks and knives over plates — it was always at Granny's.

"What about Neal?" Emma asked, her eyes on the baby in her mother's arms. "He'll be left here all alone.."

"He won't be alone, Emma," Snow reminded her, offering a smile, the thought comforting herself. "He'll have you."

"I will not give up on my own family," Emma argued, shaking her head. She could not bring herself to resign to this. Dinner at Granny's was a death sentence for all of them. It meant they weren't willing to keep fighting — fighting against what she had set in motion. The guilt was overwhelming her already.

Snow turned her head and passed Neal into her husband's arms, facing her grown daughter once more.

"Emma, we're almost out of time," she whispered, tears she no longer felt the need to hide rolling down her full, rosy cheeks.

"And time is what's most important," she reminded her. "Time with those we love," she whispered, reaching forward to take Emma's face in her hands. She leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead, and she had to stand on her toes to reach.

"I know you won't stop trying," Snow wept with a smile, because she knew her daughter was a fighter — she was born a fighter and had lived as a fighter and she would die fighting, too.

"And I hope you succeed. But…promise me that you'll…come meet us at Granny's. Come say goodbye," she begged sadly.

"I promise," Emma whispered. And she hated that she had said it, because meeting them there meant she was accepting defeat.

"I love you Emma," Snow whispered, embracing her daughter before turning to go, ascending the stone steps of the Vault to make their peace. To meet their end.

* * *

Emma was alone in the vault for only a few moments before Regina was descending those steps, and as the Dark One's eyes met with the Queen's form, she could feel sorrow rising as a lump in her throat. Because failing now meant failing Regina, too.

"So I hear we're giving up," Regina sighed, sounding more disappointed in the fact that they were accepting defeat than in the fact that they were doomed to die.

Emma's eyes burned and for a moment, she wondered if she would be able to shed her hardened shell in front of her counterpart. Her cracks were showing, and though she fought it, her gaze betrayed her, unable to help but cast her eyes on the roundness of Regina's middle.

"No," Emma corrected her after a pause, her eyes lifting to Regina's face. No. Giving up wasn't an option. Not now, not ever. Not with so many lives at stake. Not with babies who needed their mothers counting on her. Not with former villains who desperately needed their happy ending to show them that all of their years of handwork had paid off.

"Not tonight. Not ever," she added with a new fire in her eyes. "If I can destroy the Dark Ones, no souls will be owed. And you will all be spared," she promised, stepping closer to Regina. The exchange was charged with emotion — because Regina understood that Emma meant her child, too, would be spared.

Regina was terrified, her hands tense at her sides, trying to maintain composure, even as the tears in her eyes gave her away. "How?" she asked, and her voice broke as she whispered it.

"Do you remember the promise you made in Camelot," Emma asked, and tears were flowing freely from dark eyes, red circles forming quickly around the tender skin. "To do whatever was necessary to get rid of the darkness?" she asked, choking those words out with a sob.

Regina shook her head. "I don't like where this is going," she admitted. This woman before her, however she had been transformed by darkness, had changed her life — in more ways than she could count. She had given her a son, her first chance at motherhood. And it was a second chance, too, for her. She gave her hope. She gave her protection. She gave her friendship. She gave her family. And as Regina's hand lifted to touch gently against her distended belly, she breathed in sharply — she had given her this, too.

"I need you to keep that promise now," Emma whispered, her words as heavy in meaning as they were soft in tone. "And I need you to swear not to tell anyone else…"

Regina stepped forward and dropped her hand away from her belly, closing the space between herself and Emma, her eyes locked with the woman she called friend.

"But to get rid of the darkness…you still have to put it in someone," Regina reminded her grimly — because she knew that Emma hadn't forgotten that by any stretch. But she wanted to know the plan. She wanted to know what Emma intended to do — because the look in the Dark Swan's eyes was one she knew all too well. Sacrifice.

"And sacrifice them…." Regina finished, her eyes narrowed in worry. "Who," she asked, but she wasn't sure she wanted the answer.

"Me," Emma replied, her voice lilting and sad and small.


	11. Chapter 11

Having been alerted to an unknown presence in the Mayor's office — but it wasn't unknown, not really, because there was only one person who would be so brash as to enter what was unquestioningly Regina's domain — Regina and Robin charged through the door, unsurprised to find Zelena there.

She was sitting back in Regina's desk chair, feet up on the desk, twirling through a thick book of green swatches, her twisted smile reaching her icy eyes.

"Gina! Robbie!" Zelena sang tauntingly. "Come on in!"

Regina's blood was boiling — and as she glanced over at her conference table, her anger reached a new level, because the decorative bowl in the center which usually held ruby red apples from her prized tree, was now home to bright green granny smiths.

"What do you think you're doing," Regina snapped, looking around, beginning to notice other small changes that had been made to her sanctuary.

"At the moment, I'm trying to decide what color would look best on your walls — I mean, my walls," she grinned, thumbing again through the swatch book.

"Kelly? Hunter? Pistachio?" she asked, and her eyes brightened, letting out a strangled chuckle. "Oh my God…I just realized that all three of those work as baby names," she glittered, delighted in herself.

"It's all just coming together," she hummed, quite content as she leaned back in her chair once more, hungry eyes resting on Regina's frame.

More than annoyed, Regina reached for the swatch book and threw it down to the bottom of the trash can angrily. She was fed up with her sister's threats — there was enough to worry about without Zelena plotting her demise, and the theft of her child. Of course, she had placed more than one enchantment over herself — over her womb, and the life within it — but Zelena was a cunning witch, and one who was well versed in magic. Regina would never admit it out loud, but she was quite certain her sister was more adept in the art of spells than she. So there was always a risk. There was always fear.

"You're not moving in, sis," Regina grumbled, feeling Robin press himself against her from behind. Always her support.

"Well, perhaps I'm slightly premature," Zelena offered, her brow raising — because Regina was only just at the halfway mark of her pregnancy.

"But…in an hour, you'll both be dead! And everything that's yours now, will be mine. Again. Like _that_ ," she spit the last word like venom, her finger pointing to Regina's middle.

Zelena was banking on the fact that when the Dark Ones came to take the lives they had marked, that the baby would be returned to her body.

"No," Robin answered angrily, his hand sliding protectively to Regina's hip, stepping just a bit closer, closing the space between himself and the witch, ready to step in, to protect his love and his child.

"You see, our child deserves her best chance.." Robin added, and he felt Regina fishing in the pocket of her coat.

"And that's not with you," Regina cut in, holding up the Apprentice's wand.

"Ahhh, yes. The withered knob of that sad old man," Zelena hummed, unaffected by Regina's weak attempt at a threat.

"If memory serves, the last time you tried to use it, you weren't powerful enough to make it work," Zelena reminded her with a smile, tickled at the opportunity to point out another of Regina's shortcomings.

But Regina lifted the wand, and held it out in front of her, and in an instant it was glowing purple around the handle, the air buzzing with powerful magic.

"If _my_ memory serves…" Regina hummed, trying to keep her hand steady where the magic coursed through her and flowed into the wand — she was only partially successful in that.

"Last time, I didn't believe in myself. But now I do. As does everyone this town," she pointed out with a smile. "SO. Let's go somewhere, _just the two of us,_ " she whispered happily, and without any hesitation, she waved her hand and they were gone from the room in a cloud of purple smoke.

Robin was startled — this hadn't been part of the plan. He let out a sigh, and turned on his heels, hurrying out the door. Wherever Regina had taken them, he was sure there would be some sign of it. Zelena wouldn't go down without a fight — and Robin was fearful for that very reason.

* * *

Appearing in the clocktower overlooking Storybrooke, Zelena's back was to the clock. One quick glance around told her exactly where she was, and memories of this place brought a smile to her lips. She had tossed Regina like a rag doll through this clock's face, and oh what she would do for another opportunity.

"Oh, such a letdown," Zelena sighed, her lip curled in disgust. "Such a letdown. I thought you were going to use the thingy."

"Oh, I am," Regina growled, wand held tightly in her hand. "So you'd better hang on…"

Lifting the wand up once more, letting her magic pulse through to the point, Regina flicked her wrist towards the clock. Thunder rumbled outside, and the ground began to tremble. The sky turned a sickly grey and green, and a cyclone appeared, barreling down the center of town.

As the glass of the clock face shattered around them, Regina only smiled, watching gleefully as Zelena began to stumble back, the magic's tendrils reaching in for its target. In one gust, Zelena was lifted off of her feet, clinging desperately to the iron bars of the clock's frame. Legs flailed wildly behind her, kicking at some invisible force — but she was failing this fight.

"I am NOT done!" Zelena screeched through gritted teeth. She would never give up so easily. Regardless of where Regina was sending her, she would find her way back — she would find a way to take back her child — and take her revenge.

"YOU WILL SEE ME AGAIN," the witch screamed, losing her grip and flying backwards, sucked up into the vortex of magic.

Regina grinned, completely satisfied and completely exhilarated.

"Somewhere over the rainbow," she laughed to herself. "Enjoy Oz, witch."

The moment the tail of the cyclone disappeared, the deep color of magic dissipating and leaving light trails of clouds in its wake, Regina lost that sense of exhilaration. She lurched forward, bracing herself against the iron beam of the shattered clock. She let out a shaky exhale, her opposite hand pressing to her belly.

This wasn't nausea. It was a hollow heaviness in the pit of her stomach, and she swallowed hard to keep the bile from rising any further in her throat. Questions flashed in Regina's eyes, wondering if by sending Zelena — and her magic — away, she had put the child in jeopardy. A few slow breaths were drawn in an effort to steady herself, and she pushed away from the clock. "Our greatest enemy isn't each other. It's ourselves." Regina's own words echoed in her thoughts as she made her way carefully down the tower steps, hoping that fate wouldn't feel the need to remind her of this again — at the expense of her child.

And then it was something else — Regina stumbled forward on the steps at the sudden sharp pain, her eyes closing tight as she braced for the inevitable impact. She crashed to her knees, rolling as best she could to her side, letting her hip bear the weight of her fall. Her wrist was burning, flesh searing, and as her eyes opened once more, sucking in a deep breath against the pain and letting it out in a low moan of agony, she saw the Dark One's mark glowing white against her flesh.

* * *

In an instant, Regina was somewhere else altogether. She was still on the ground, but now surrounded by the tall stalks of vaguely familiar legs. She whimpered as she moved to stand, and before she could ask, arms were reaching down to help her to her feet. Robin and Charming were holding her steady, Snow and Henry's eyes locked on her with worry.

"I'm alright, I'm alright," she promised, and tried to avoid Gold's eyes — because there was little else in this life she hated more than showing weakness in front of him.

"Henry?" Regina asked, stepping forward when she'd regained her balance, slipping out from under the protective hold of Charming and Robin. "Are you alright?" she whispered, her hands going to his shoulders.

"I think so," he offered as weak consolation. His mother's arms were going around him then, and though his worry for her ran deep, he allowed himself the selfishness of being comforted by her — because she was still his mom.

"Neal's back at the Diner —," Snow gasped, becoming aware of their new location a few seconds behind everyone else.

"Roland? Where is he?" David asked nervously, his gaze on Robin.

"He's safe," he promised — and his words, when spoken out loud, brought him comfort, too. "He's with the fairies. They'll take Neal as well," he assured them both. And they would. The town had been bracing for this moment for hours, and plans had already been laid for the unmarked children of Storybrooke.

Regina felt Robin move behind her, and together they stood with Henry wrapped tight in their arms, their eyes roaming around the open field. The Dark Ones surrounded them in menacing silence.

"So this is really it," Henry asked nervously, his voice smaller than it had sounded in years. He couldn't help the arm that reached forward around his mother, his forearm making contact with the firm swell of life inside. His heart was breaking, then, knowing that all of his good intentions and best kept secrets and Operation: Dingo — it was all for nothing.

Regina turned sadly to look at her son, wishing that she could have kept him from this — or at least kept him from realizing that death was eminent.

"Afraid it is, lad," Hook apologized insincerely. And he smiled.

"Look," the Dark pirate seethed. "The S.S. Purgatory," he joked darkly.

They all turned at his prompt, watching in horror as the dark boat made its way across the pond, riding on the rolling fog.

"MOM! DAD! HENRY!"

Emma's familiar voice was frantic as she ran out from the thicket of trees, racing towards them, hoping that she could still make this right — that she could turn this final stand to her advantage.

Henry rushed away from Regina's arms and into the embrace of his other mother, quickly joined in a clump by David and Snow.

"I"m so sorry, I tried…" she lamented, her woes punctuated by a deep sob.

"We know," Snow promised, desperate to console her daughter. But what consolation could there really be. "It's okay," she whispered.

Regina was enraged — because sorrow never lingered long in her bones. It always boiled into anger.

"It's time to drop the act," she demanded, and she took several long strides boldly towards the pirate.

"You can just sit back and watch another family be destroyed to get your revenge," she plead with him. They'd had a dark past together, too. And Regina knew more about Hook's pain and weakness than he would have liked.

"What makes you think I can't," he asked dryly, uninterested in rehashing old wounds — or in healing them.

"Because of what we swore to never speak of again. I know the real reason you don't want to talk about what you did to your father…"

"I believe we've already had this conversation," Hook gritted. And they had. Down by the docks. But it hadn't ended in Regina's favor.

"But this time you're going to listen," she insisted. "Because if you don't, you're going to regret it for the rest of your life, which in your case, means forever." Regina was no stranger to regret, and while it seemed somewhat self serving now, when her very life was at this man's mercy, deep in her heart, she did want redemption for him. Because redemption had given her everything.

"So you have to ask yourself the same question you did that night. What kind of man do you want to be," Regina asked softly, her eyes sad and pleading — she could feel it, and she hated it. But now was not the time to temper her emotions. Why bother? She was going to die, either way.

Hook's eyes went dark, his gaze glassy and distant. Regina's words had made him reconsider, as the memories of his father flooded his mind. He stood, and stared in silence, the world around him melting away and giving life to his thoughts.

"It's time," Nimue interrupted, and she stepped forward with a dark and crooked smile, ready to enact their dark purpose.

Regina backed away from Hook, then, and found her place between Henry and Robin once more. They stood and stared forward — all of them — waiting to see what horrors lay in store.

"No. You're not taking the people I LOVE!" Emma shouted angrily, determination and fire marking her steps forward.

But Nimue interceded with the flick of her wrist, and Emma was held mid-air, choking on the grip of magic around her throat.

"I may not be able to kill you, but I can stop you from interfering," Nimue promised, her grip tightening.

Emma's face was turning a deep shade of red, then blue. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she gasped and gurgled as she struggled for breath that would not come. Snow flinched, aching to help her, to rescue her — but there was little she could do against a Dark One.

The life was being squeezed from her, and it went on for an eternity. The weak squeaking sounds of dying breath was too much to bear but they were powerless —

"—That's enough!" Hook demanded, turning to Nimue — and she snarled in reply, visibly displeased with this rebellion.

"What do you think you're doing," she growled.

"Being the man I want to be," Hook quipped.

"You can't stop us."

"Yes. I can."

Hook held up the blade of Excalibur and narrowed his eyes, his power flowing freely from it. Dark black tendrils wrapped around the inlaid blade and began pulling the Dark Ones in one by one. Emma, free of Nimue's magical grip, dropped to the grass, quickly scrambling to her feet.

Killian was holding his ground, trembling as the incredible force of the Dark Ones flooded over and around and into the sword. It glowed red with power, and Hook was shaking beneath its force. He gritted his teeth and began to turn to Emma — and they both knew what he meant to do.

"Killian you can't do this," she begged.

This had been her plan all along, but now that she was faced with the task, and now that he had showed some sign of remorse for his actions, it was much harder to justify — impossible.

"We both know there's no other way, love," He groaned, straining hard to keep from being overcome by the heavy magic in his hand.

"We have to hurry," he reminded her. "The darkness won't stay trapped in Excalibur much longer —," he grunted. And the only way this could be worse is if they were unleashed a second time, this time mutinying against their current embodiment.

"Take it," he begged.

But Emma begged him not to make her.

"You have to help me, Swan. Take it," he plead with her, his whole body succumbing to tremors.

"I can't," Emma sighed sadly, squeezing her eyes shut as if that alone would make this responsibility pass from her. "It should be me."

"Your family needs you," he reminded her. "If anyone deserves to go to the Underworld, it's me." he confessed. "You were right, I was weak. So let me make up for it now by being strong," he begged her, wincing in pain.

They exchanged laments, neither one wanting the other to leave. But time was running out and a choice had to be made.

"Let me die a hero. That's the man I want you to remember me as, please…"

Emma reached forward with both hands, taking the sword from him with sorrow in her eyes. She groaned when the weight was in her arms, trembling as she struggled to keep the magic contained. She grimaced as she looked into his eyes, knowing that their end was near. There was no happy ending to be had here. There was no choice.

"I love you," she promised, and she backed away slowly, holding the sword out in front of her. It thrummed with magic, the sound making her sick.

"It's okay," he promised, nodding his head and holding his arms out when he saw the hesitation in her eyes.

Gritting his teeth, he braced for the impact, crying out when Emma charged forward, sinking the blade deep in his belly. She held him, the hilt still in her palm, and wept. Because this was goodbye.

As they stood together, Hook shivering and eyes rolling back, the Dark One's magic left Emma's body. Her hair returned to its natural yellow, and the dark clothes she'd been wearing melting away. She was just Emma.

As she pulled the blade back, it fell to dust, and the wound on his neck returned.

Hook fell to the ground in pain, and Emma went with him, holding him and trying to comfort him while everyone watched on, horrified at what they'd witnessed. But the Dark One's reign had ended, and Hook had died a hero.

They would live to see another morning — because of him.


	12. Chapter 12

Five weeks had already passed since Hook's death, and Emma had shut herself away from most aspects of her life. She would accept visits from her parents and from Henry, but few others. Even Regina had slowly been nudged out of Emma's inner circle.

Two years ago, that might have offended the dark haired former Queen. It might have earned Emma a cold stare at the least. But not now.

Regina understood — probably better than anyone else — what it was to loose love. To have love ripped away from you before your very eyes. And maybe that was why Emma couldn't risk seeing her. Because she understood and even understanding was unbearable.

Perhaps Regina might have tried to push through those barriers in her friend were the circumstances even slightly different. But as it was, she was well occupied herself.

Standing in front of the full length mirror, Regina's brow was wrinkled in longing disapproval. Longing for a time not long ago when dressing herself was easy, and didn't require magic. And disapproval at how ill fitting her current frock appeared. She let out a sigh and turned to the side, her eyes fixed on the pronounced roundness of her belly. She waved her hand over her middle, letting the seam of her navy dress loosen a bit more. Better, she thought to herself.

She turned to face herself straight on, letting her gaze begin at her bare shoulders, falling slowly over her arms, noting her fuller breasts, skirting quickly over her round belly, and trailing to her legs — smiling then, because she was quite pleased with her legs, despite everything else.

Deciding this would do well enough, Regina turned and bent down to grab hold of the black heels she favored as of late. Their decidedly lower heel gave her a little more balance (and hers was constantly shifting), but still allowed her to feel dignified — regal.

Making her way downstairs, she smiled when she heard the happy — and familiar — sound of revving engines against cheerful music. Peering over the bannister, she found Henry and Roland sitting together on the couch, their eyes glued to the television, hands gripping the controllers as two small caricatures of animated Italian men raced in brightly colored clownish cars on the screen. Henry favored this game, and she was grateful that it was something he and Roland could play together.

"Hey," she breathed out with a smile as her heel clicked against the tile, stepping down off the stair.

Robin had rounded the corner out of the kitchen just in time to catch sight of her descending, and he was flooded with memories of powerful and beautiful magical creatures, stories told around the fire. He was certain he'd found one for himself, and that one was standing before him now.

He smiled, and leaned in to kiss her — once, twice — his hand planted firmly against her hip.

"Morning," he hummed contently, his eyes roaming over her frame. "I made breakfast," he promised.

Regina was beaming — and she loved him so much for doing these small things for her, for their family, that she didn't have the heart to tell him she wasn't hungry.

"Thank you," She replied, stealing a third, chaste kiss, before stepping away, her hand over his, hesitant to release him.

"I was going to try and see if Emma was up for a visit," she admitted, moving into the kitchen, letting him trail behind.

"I thought she was refusing to see anyone," Robin replied, his brow furrowed.

Regina would insist that this distance between she and Emma meant nothing to her. She would swear that she understood where she was coming from, and understood her reaction to Hook's death, and that she could sympathize. She had argued on more than one occasion that she had reacted the same way when Daniel was killed. But Robin knew that despite all of her logic, the rift — whether she was at fault or not, and she was not — hurt her. And Robin hated to see her hurt.

"Well…" Regina began, wincing because she knew he was right. "She's had five weeks," she sighed, hating herself the moment the words were out of her mouth. Because it didn't matter how much time she had. The love of her life was dead. And Regina had spent a lifetime hurting over her own loss. Five weeks was nothing.

"That came out wrong," she insisted, reaching for a mug, pouring hot water from the kettle over a tea bag. "I just… I think she needs company. She just doesn't know she needs it," she said with a nod, her brow arching upwards — a tell tale sign that she felt she was right, and justified.

It was a sign that Robin knew well, and he chuckled at that.

"I've been where she is," she added, now dripping honey into the mixture, and stirring quietly with a small spoon. "When I lost Daniel," she began, and noticed that for the first time, she felt fully at ease talking about Daniel out loud with him.

"I…shut everything out. Everything that I needed, I refused. I closed off the people who loved me, and I turned hurt into anger into…something darker," she admitted. "I don't want that for her. She may not want my help, but she's going to get it," she said with a nod, tapping the spoon against the side of the mug, then lifting it to her lips, licking the remaining honey from the inside.

Robin watched her with a raised brow, his smile growing. She was seductive without even trying. Even pregnant — maybe, especially pregnant — she had him going weak in the knees and wishing he were the spoon.

Regina lifted the mug to her lips, sipping slowly, smiling with her eyes over the rim. There was the sudden thought that perhaps she would stay home that morning instead of visiting Emma. Emma could wait one more day.

Her eyes went wide suddenly and she pulled her lips back from the mug, letting out a gasp. Startled by something, her hands fumbled and the mug dropped to the counter, tipping through the air and spilling tea everywhere.

Regina let out a breath and brought her hand against the top of her belly, her mouth hanging open in obvious shock.

Robin called out her name nervously and rushed to her side, his hand joining hers, panic rising in his chest. "Regina? Regina what is it? What's wrong," he begged, his eyes pleading for answers.

But she simply stared ahead, brown eyes going glassy. She breathed in slowly, her eyes softening and lips pulling into a smile.

"She kicked," she whispered, her words coming out in something of a breathy laugh. "I…I felt it. I felt her kick," she marveled, finally breaking her stare to look into his face.

Robin moved his palm against her belly, and he let her adjust its position, his heart still pounding in his chest from the sudden scare. He waited, holding his breath in anticipation, feeling the slow rise and fall of her abdomen with each breath she took.

He was about to pull back, deciding that the baby had perhaps changed her position, promising himself that he would get another chance, soon. But his palm had barely moved when there was the sudden and distinct thump beneath the pads of his fingers.

Tears were brimming in his eyes in an instant, and he laughed softly, unable to help but lean in and kiss her again — and again and again. He dipped his head, letting his nose nuzzle against hers, his hand fixed against her middle, thumb rubbing back and forth over the swell.

They stayed there a long while, just holding each other, and crying happy tears, and celebrating this milestone.

* * *

"You look almost chipper," Snow noted with a raised brow, failing miserably at hiding the smirk on her lips.

Regina snorted and rolled her eyes, lifting herself on her toes as she slid onto the stool at the kitchen island in Snow's apartment.

"That's terrifying coming from you," she replied with a laugh, leaning her elbows forward onto the surface, leaning into the counter.

"Have you been to see her?" Snow asked, leaning over the countertop to pass Regina a mug of tea, taking her own up between both hands.

Regina shook her head and brought the mug to her lips, sipping slowly and regretting this one aspect of pregnancy — that her favored sips of whiskey were now replaced with weakened tea.

"No," she swallowed, eyes going wide as she let out a sigh, letting the warm tea seep through her.

"Well. Yes," Regina corrected herself, leaning back slightly to run a hand alongside the side of her growing belly. Her skin was so damn itchy as of late, and no amount of lotion seemed to help. She wished, to herself, that she hadn't just begun to rub because now all she could think of was how badly she wanted to scratch.

"I went to the house. Two weeks ago now?" she hummed, trying to think of when she'd last made an attempt.

"She wouldn't come to the door," she added with a sigh. "I left after a few minutes of begging."

Snow laughed at that, despite the levity of the situation, because Regina Mills did not beg. Ever.

"I saw her through the window as I left. She was just lying on the couch. Staring," Regina explained, her eyes narrow and her voice soft because she could see how this was hurting Snow.

"I'm worried about her," Regina confessed after a long silence between them.

"Me too," Snow whispered.

"Regina." David's voice announced his presence, offering a smile as he pushed through the front door, leaning in quickly to press a kiss to Snow's lips before hanging his gun and holster up in the cabineted hook.

"What's going on," he asked, sensing something in the air between the two women.

"Emma," Snow explained, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back against the sink.

"Well…" David began, ready to excuse his daughter — because she had, in fact, lost her love not that long ago, and everyone grieved differently —

"She still hasn't let Regina in," Snow interrupted, sighing sadly. The irony was a bit much, but Regina represented hope for Emma to her parents.

David sighed, then, too, his eyes going to their former enemy. He was more willing than the two women to let this play out over time. Snow was anxious to have her daughter back, and Regina — well, Regina wasn't known to be patient about much of anything.

"You look good," David offered with the gesture of his chin to Regina, hoping to change the subject to something a bit lighter.

Regina rolled her eyes and lifted her mug into her hands once again. "I look like a barge," she replied dryly, sipping again simply to avoid elaborating.

"Regina," Snow scolded, tipping her head to the side.

David stepped out slowly, wanting to give Regina the freedom to not be under his gaze anymore, to spare her any more of the attention she was clearly not used to receiving.

"How are _you_?" Snow asked, allowing the subject to be shifted, but not changed altogether.

That earned her another eye roll.

"I'm…fine," Regina reluctantly replied.

She set her mug down and let her gaze lower to her full belly, still not fully adjusted to this new form, even now after thirty weeks.

Snow was silent, but her eyes encouraged her to continue, to expound.

"It's…." Regina began with a sigh, only to realize she didn't know where to begin. "It's Robin," she tried again, hoping that this would be an appropriate starting point.

"Are you two having trouble?" Snow asked, leaning forward in a display of genuine interest and concern, and an openness to offer counsel for a friend.

"No," Regina shook her head, stopping that train of thought before it left the station.

In another lifetime, that question would have earned Snow one of her famous apple turnovers.

"No, it's nothing like that. I don't think," Regina offered.

Another sigh left the Queen's lips — because she was not one to divulge so much personal information, but she felt she was at the mercy of hormones run rampant. Her emotional strength had certainly begun to wane as of late, and the more her belly grew, the worse it got.

"He's just been… not distant," she corrected herself mid-thought.

Not secretive, either. But maybe something in between.

"And I'm so…." she started, looking down at her belly again as if to make her point. "I don't feel…"

"Regina," Snow whispered, moving from her place to be at Regina's side, her arm going around her shoulders, rubbing gently to comfort her.

"Regina, no," she assured her. "This is… this is completely normal," she promised.

"When I was pregnant with Neal…right around this time, I felt enormous."

 _You were enormous_ , Regina thought to herself, then immediately felt the weight of guilt settle over her.

"Robin loves you completely," Snow promised with a smile, letting her eyes lock with the older woman's. "Completely. I've never seen anyone more in love since you two found out about the baby. You're worrying over nothing. And the best way to remedy that is to talk to him," she encouraged.

And Regina knew she was right. And she hated that, too.

* * *

She didn't want to admit it — and she might not ever have to, to anyone but herself — but Regina was ready to take Snow's advice. She left the Charming's apartment with a mission. To talk to Robin. Walking up the brick-lay path to her front door, Regina let out a breath to steel herself against her own nerves.

Pushing through the door, she slipped out of her coat, hanging it in the foyer as she called out. "Robin?"

Nothing.

"Henry?" she tried, her heels clicking as she moved slowly through the house.

Nothing.

She let out a sigh, thinking that she would have to work up the courage a second time, later. Slipping out of her heels, she bent down to pick them up off the floor, hooking her fingers in the heels and walking up the staircase slowly, balancing herself against the bannister.

Cursing herself for being winded after a single flight of stairs, Regina swallowed to clear her dry throat, but stopped, hearing low voices and hushed laughter.

"Robin?" she called out again, passing her bedroom door and making her way further, towards the spare room at the opposite end of the hall.

"Henry?" she asked again with thinly veiled trepidation in her voice.

She pushed the door open, unsure what she would find — but nothing would have prepared her for what there was.

"SURPRISE!"

Robin and Roland and Henry were all standing in a freshly painted room. The old furniture and outdated files that had been stored in there since the first curse was enacted had all been cleared out, replaced with lightly painted, dainty pieces. Shelves with a few strategically placed, brightly colored story books stacked up, a rocking chair, a changing table. Stuffed animals piled neatly in the corner. And a mobile hanging from the ceiling in front of the windows where they were standing. Regina was beaming, her eyes filling rapidly with tears as she looked around, trying to take it all in. "You did all of this?" she asked in a whisper, flinching when Henry and Roland both rushed forward to hug her, leaving her at the center of a clump of happy faces, and arms and legs.

"When?" she asked in disbelief, stepping forward to begin examining everything in more detail.

"You've been so occupied with helping Emma lately," Robin offered, not moving from his place — and Regina was only vaguely aware that he was standing in front of something.

"We wanted to cheer you up! And surprise you!" Roland chimed in, his chin turned up in a comically exaggerated way, his bright brown eyes wide as he watched her happily, reveling in her excitement.

"You like it?" Henry asked, watching as his mother bent forward to carefully examine the book shelf.

Laughing loudly, Regina reached forward, sliding a bright purple book out of the center of a stack. "The Happy Adventures of the Not-So-Evil Queen," she read aloud, letting a tear escape quietly. "Where did you get this?" she asked with a tearful giggle, turning to look over her shoulder, holding the book out to show off the cover: a cartoon drawing of a girl who only vaguely looked like her, but who held an apple in one hand and a crown in the other.

"Belle found it," Robin said with a proud smile — because he'd hounded the young woman for weeks trying to collect children's books that the daughter of a former painted villain would be proud to read. "We had them all ordered. Took damn near a month to arrive," he chuckled.

A month. Regina silently counted back and cursed herself for thinking that there was ever anything other than love between them.

"I thought…" she began, but decided against finishing, because none of it mattered now.

She stepped towards him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaning in for a kiss, the bright purple book still in her hand. She grinned against his lips when she felt his hands go to the sides of her belly, and laughed when the baby moved, the shift beneath her skin felt by both of them.

"I love you," Regina hummed — and she was ready to accept the overwhelming display of love as it was. But there was more.

"One more thing," Robin promised with a smile. He took her hand in his own and stepped to the side, revealing his last surprise.

Regina was silent, save for a deep breath out, her eyes falling to the carved cradle before her. The legs were trunks, and the sides were tree tops, a canopy of delicately carved wood spread over the top. It was painted — white — but in the center of each tree were bright red clusters of circles. Apples.

Shaking her head, because she hardly felt she deserved so much, Regina wrapped her arm around Robin's middle and leaned her head against his arm — and she just stared, trying to imagine a baby lying there. Ten weeks was altogether an eternity, and nothing at all.

* * *

At some point during the last week, Emma had emerged from her home. She had paid a visit to Gold's shop, and retuned with the fire in her eyes that was so unmistakably Emma. In a matter of hours, she had called her family together, to meet at the Charming's apartment. Because she had news. And she had a plan.

"You're going to hell?" Snow asked, turning her cheek into the question, as though she were certain she hadn't heard correctly.

"The Underworld," Emma corrected — as if that were any better.

"That's quite a distinction," David interrupted, less than amused.

"I'm getting him back," Emma said softly, and the look in her eyes meant she would — and no one was going to stop her.

"This isn't fair to Killian. Gold tricked him. Everything he gave up was based on a lie…"

"Emma, you know how this works. This is a one-for-one trade," David reminded her gently. "To get him back, someone else will have to die."

"And you just got back from being the Dark One. You can't give into darkness again," Snow pleaded softly.

"I won't. I'm giving into love. I'm doing this right," Emma promised.

Regina looked up at her words, her hand in Robin's against her lap.

"I learned my lesson. I'm taking a page out of your book," Emma explained, hoping to speak to the hope-loving parents she'd learned so much from in recent years.

"You two share a heart. And so will we," she pressed, her lips curling into a half smile — because her plan was brilliant, foolproof. Wasn't it?

"It could work," Regina agreed with a nod, after a long silence hung in the room.

"It will work," Emma corrected her hopefully.

"Uh. Forgive me if I'm missing the obvious," Robin said, clearing his throat.

"But, um. How does one get to the Underworld?" he asked. And he was nervous, because he knew — he could feel — that whatever this plan was, Regina would want to be with her, to help and support her. And to protect her.

* * *

They were standing on the edge of the pond — Emma and Gold, Snow and Charming, Robin, Regina and Henry. They had wasted no time in finding Gold and dragging him there in the dark of night. It was cold, and a light fog had settled not just over the pond, but over the field as well. It was eerie — and foreboding.

"Do it." Emma demanded, looking to Gold to keep up his end of the bargain they'd made.

Gold lifted the Dark One's dagger in one hand and brought the blade against the palm of his other. One swift pull down, and he was spilling his blood into the dark water below. The fog grew thicker, heralding the arrival of Charon's boat.

Regina pulled her coat a little more snugly over herself, tugging the belt a bit tighter over the top of her belly before resting her hand on Henry's shoulder.

Emma stepped out onto the surface of the water first, followed by Snow and Charming. And because the question of whether or not they were going, too, had already been answered — because this was her friend, and her family, and the woman who had given her this child in the first place — Robin held Regina's hand tightly, helping her down next.

She walked slowly at Henry's side, her arm linked with his half in the need to protect him, always, and half in the need for reassurance, herself — and balance.

And one by one, they boarded the boat. And they began their journey to the Underworld. Together.


	13. Chapter 13

The fog was so thick, no one could see more than a few inches in front of them. Navigating was out of the question. But then again, they weren't responsible for navigating.

Regina sat beside Henry, Robin directly behind. She wasn't sure if it was the rocking of the boat, or the life she carried disagreeing with a place of death, but Regina was sick. Her color was pale and her eyes were dark and watery. She held the underside of her belly with both hands the entire journey, as if that were enough to keep her daughter safe.

Shortly after they'd traveled out of the small Storybrooke pond, Emma had passed out. She lay still and silent on the deck, watched over by her parents.

Regina let out a sigh, watching as the blonde began to stir, and she swallowed, her eyes falling closed.

"Regina," Robin said softly, reaching forward to touch her knee gently.

She shook her head to let him know she was alright, and grabbed hold of the side of the boat, bracing herself, anchoring herself. The movement in her belly was strange now — still unquestioningly her daughter — but there was a slow fogginess to it as well now. Eyes still closed, she silently prayed that this had not been a colossal mistake — that coming to the Underworld would not cost her the life of her daughter.

Emma came to just as they were approaching the docks — the entrance to the Underworld. Regina might have otherwise gotten up to check on her, but her parents were taking care of her, and she was sure that if she stood now, she would be the next one unconscious on the deck of the boat.

They exited carefully, Regina moving cautiously, helped by all three men in the boat — Gold, Charming and Robin. Henry stood behind her as they lifted her up and out, his hand hovering over her back should she lose her step.

They walked the length of the dock together, still unable to see clearly — and then the light was changing, going from dark blue to yellow to deep orange. The fog began to clear, and the buildings looked radioactive — but familiar.

Regina's brow furrowed as she grabbed hold of Robin's arm, her free hand supporting some of the weight of her belly. This was Storybrooke. Except it wasn't at all.

"I don't think we're in Maine anymore," the former Queen spoke gently, trying to hide the tremble in her voice.

There were dozens of townspeople shuffling about, their eyes glazed over, mindlessly wandering. It was unsettling to say the least.

The clocktower was the most easily recognizable structure — but it was tipped over and crashed in the center of the road. Hazard pipes jutted up from the streets everywhere they looked, and there was a low thrum of wind — and magic.

"How is this possible," Emma asked nervously, leading the group forward, despite everyone's trepidation.

"How does the Underworld look like Storybrooke…"

"Your questions are pointless," Gold quipped. "All that matters is, all these people in this Underworld are dead — and trapped — because they have unfinished business.

A revving engine pierced the eerie quiet, and everyone's eyes followed the sound. A familiar car sped down a side street — and Regina tensed. "Cruella."

"That's right," Gold agreed. "And she's here because of you," he reminded Emma, turning to his side to make eye contact.

"I imagine there are many here because of all of us," he added — and he meant it for all of them, but he couldn't help but let his eyes lock on Regina. Because more than any of them, she was at risk of meeting those who blamed her for inhabiting this terrible place.

"Let's not lollygag," Gold said with a nod, waving them on. If there was going to be a fight, he didn't want to enter in to it just yet.

"Split up. We'll cover more ground," Emma suggested determinedly.

"Agreed," Regina replied, her eyes wandering over the faces in the crowd, her chest going tight, her anxiety rising.

"The sooner we get out of here, the better," she whispered to mostly herself, knowing that she would likely not be leaving this place unscathed. Too many were here at her hand. Too many blamed her for their suffering — and rightfully so.

Locking eyes with some nameless stranger, Regina felt a chill run through her, but pressed on, holding Robin's hand a little tighter.

* * *

"Your Majesty." The stranger did not bother to knock on the familiar office of the Mayor — though this on was dark and twisted. "She's here."

Turning in the desk chair that belonged to Regina in Storybrooke, Cora smiled and greeted her familiar guest.

"Thank you for bringing me this information," Cora said evenly, her tone cold and nearly inhuman.

"Now tell me. How is my daughter…"

* * *

Since they'd split up to search for Hook, Snow found herself drifting toward the familiar, opening the door to Granny's before she realized where she'd gone. She walked in slowly, taking in the slightly off-color version of the place she so loved back in Storybrooke.

There was a woman behind the counter with wild hair and glazed over eyes, and Snow narrowed her eyes in confusion as the woman began to sniff at the air.

"Is that — I know you," the witch said with a smile. "Aren't you Snow White?"

Snow didn't answer, only let her lips twitch into a half smile that was more confused and nervous than happy.

"Can you imagine," the witch breathed out giddily. "Uh…well, what can I get you?" she asked happily. "Gingerbread? Children? Kidding. Actually, the gingerbread isn't bad.."

"I'm looking for a friend," Snow quickly snapped out of the dazed induced by this bizarre upside down version of hoem. "He would have gotten here recently. Dark hair…a hook for a hand?"

"Captain Hook," the witch agreed with a smile.

"You know him?" Snow asked happily, hope filing her spirit.

"No." The witch apologized. "But your description was pretty complete."

The door opened again, and Snow smiled in relief to see her husband.

"David," she hummed happily — but then she noticed something was off. "You changed. What happened? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," he promised, closing the gap between them and stepping in quite aggressively to kiss her.

"I see why my brother likes you," he said with a grin.

Snow pulled back in disgust. "James."

"So, Snow White's in town…I'm guessing that means my brother is too," he deduced aloud, leaning casually onto the counter, leering at the former princess.

"When you see ol' Dave, tell him there's a new sheriff in town," he chuckled darkly, grabbing his coffee, and leaving her bewildered — just in time to watch David come through the door.

"Was that…my brother?" David asked, equally as uneasy at this place.

"Yeah," Snow replied — but said nothing else of the encounter.

"Mom, Dad.." Emma hummed, stepping in to the diner next. "You find anything?"

"There was no sign of him at the park or the town hall," Snow offered in defeat.

"This is hopeless," Emma sighed. "We don't even know if Hook's here. What if he has no unfinished business?"

"He died a Dark One, Miss Swan," Gold chimed in. "Trust me, he's here," he spat in annoyance.

"Look, I'm finished being a team player. If you want things done, let me do them my way. I may have something down here that can help us." And turning on his heel, Gold left to his own biddings.

* * *

"It's uncanny," Robin remarked as he and Regina circled the collapsed clock tower. "It's so similar, yet so…off."

"Well, when I conjured Storybrooke, it was with the Dark Curse," Regina reasoned, tugging at the leather sash of her coat, tightening it — again — as it had taken to constantly slipping over the large bulge of her belly.

"Whoever created that curse — Looks like this place is where they got their inspiration," Regina hummed.

"Or vice-versa," Robin added as an afterthought.

They continued walking, passing in front of a storefront doorway, and Regina noticed a man — the same man who she'd seen earlier — lingering. Watching. Her steps slowed, and Robin noticed the change in her instantly.

"What is it, what's wrong?" he asked, and he was turning to her, his eyes on her belly.

But she was turning, too, spinning to look back at the man who had assuredly been watching her since they'd arrived.

"You. You've been following us," she said with accusation in her tone. "Why."

"Someone wants to see you," he replied, tugging at the lapels of his jacket.

And Regina's heart sunk. She held her hand out and Robin took it, and then her arm, holding her steady — offering his support.

* * *

"Mother," Regina breathed out as she stepped into her own office — but it wasn't. Not here. Here it belonged to Cora.

Cora turned at the sounds of her daughter's voice and she began to smile, but stopped, her face freezing as her eyes fell to the obvious and pronounced globe of Regina's belly.

"You're here," Regina whispered, her emotions mixed.

"You're pregnant," Cora replied.

Regina offered a smile at that, and crossed the room, still leaving a bit of distance between them.

"I had hoped you were okay," Regina offered, somewhat sad that her mother was trapped here, and certain it had something to do with her. 'Complicated' didn't begin to describe their relationship.

"I know, darling," Cora promised, taking a step closer, slowly bridging the gap between them.

And then they were reaching for each other. Regina's arms wrapped around Cora's back, and Cora's around Regina's shoulders, and they both breathed out at the impact, holding each other tightly. They remained there a moment, simply allowing themselves the pleasure of being physically connected again.

"I know," Cora hummed again. She pulled back, then, and held Regina's face in her hands, smiling proudly at her daughter. Her hands moved slowly, coming to rest against the sides of Regina's outstretched womb, feeling a pang of joy and sadness all at once in her heart.

"But I do have unfinished business," she explained softly, her hands falling away from her daughter's middle. "And that would be you."

"You don't have to worry about me," Regina promised, hoping to offer her mother some peace — because she was certain this place had offered her none.

"I'll always worry about you. I want you to be happy."

And Regina wanted to tell her that she was — that she had found love, and a family and friends and it was so much more than she'd ever had growing up. But she let out a sigh, her features losing their softness, if only slightly.

"Then help me find Hook…and get out of here," she begged, hoping that her mother would be the key to getting them all home, safe and sound.

"It's too dangerous," Cora explained with wide eyes. "You need to leave — now," she begged.

"I promised my friends I would help," Regina explained, her brow furrowing, begging her mother to understand — and wondering if she ever could.

Cora shook her head and reached forward to cup the side of Regina's face once more.

"Your friends. Your family. They're what's holding you back," Cora offered. "Sweetheart, you must do what's best for you."

"I am," Regina argued, a smile on her lips, ready to explain how much these people had changed her — how much they had given her.

"No. You're not." Cora's tone grew darker, then. "And if you won't, I'll see to it that you do. This is the Underworld, Regina. There is no life here. You will not find Hook in time. And if that baby is born here — it will be born dead."

Regina was stunned to silence, unprepared to hear what her mother had just explained. No mother was ever ready to hear that.

"It wasn't easy, but I've arranged for a boat to take you home," Cora offered. "It departs in one hour. Take Henry — take your thief, and go, before it's too late," she begged.

"Mother…" Regina exhaled nervously, tears in her eyes. "I can't," she shook her head.

"You must," Cora begged. "I know it's hard to put aside all suspicion after how I raised you, but, Regina… Do you remember the last thing I said to you before I died?" she asked softly, her features tender — something Regina didn't quite recognize in her.

Regina nodded, and swallowed, fighting the lump in her throat. "That I would have been enough," she remembered aloud.

"You would have been," Cora agreed with a smile. "It just took me too long to realize it. Don't make the same mistake. Go," she begged.

"What would happen if I stayed?" Regina asked out of curiosity, certain that with ten weeks ahead of her in pregnancy, there was plenty of room to get Hook and get out safely.

"Sometimes a mother has to do what's best for her child, even if it's reprehensible," Cora replied evenly.

And it wasn't an answer at all, but more of a threat — and that was the familiarity that Regina had with her.

"Are you threatening me," Regina asked, backing up slowly, putting some distance between herself and the woman she called mother.

"No. No, no, of course not. Never."

But that was a lie. Cora had made countless threats against her, countless times.

"But there's something I need to show you…" she added, and waving her hand, she brought them to a large and looming cavern. Fire crackled below, and the heat could be felt even where they stood hundreds of feet beneath them.

* * *

The stranger who had brought Regina to Cora was now standing at the edge of the precipice, nervously flailing about.

"Mother?" Regina asked, her eyes filled with worry. "Where are we?"

"What are you doing?" Regina exhaled as Cora lifted her hand, fire lifting up from the pit below and grabbing hold of the man at the ledge.

"Showing you your fate if you don't return to Storybrooke," Cora replied coolly, unaffected by the wild torturous screams , his body flung deep down into the pit.

"You…You killed him," Regina panted nervously.

"Killed is….a relative term down here," she explained. "This Underworld — most can only leave it in two ways. To a better place, or a worse one. But you, my sweet daughter, have another option," she promised.

"However, not for long," she reminded Regina, her jaw going stiff. "Go home. Or there will be a cost." And her eyes were at Regina's belly again. "Someone will suffer."

"Who," Regina asked, wanting a solid answer, outraged and annoyed with the poetics.

"Your father," Cora answered.

And while it was comforting that her mother was not directly threatening her child, Regina felt it even more keenly for her father. Because he had been the only one who loved her from the beginning, who had been on her side when no one else was — and she repaid him by ripping out his heart to cast her curse for vengeance.


	14. Chapter 14

The twisted version of Granny's diner was cleared out, save for their small group. Regina sat perched, quite uncomfortably, on the edge of a bar stool, Robin and Henry at either side. Robin's hand was flush at her back, tracing gentle patterns against the back of her heavy, black wool coat.

"She'd really do that?" Snow asked in horror. But Snow knew better. Snow knew Cora at her worst, had seen the measures she would take in the name of putting her daughter first.

"She'll throw your father — her husband — into the fire?" she asked, pressing into the question.

"Of course she will," Regina answered evenly, her eyes narrowed as if to challenge the younger woman to recall the evil she had done with her time on earth.

"She thinks she's giving me my best chance," Regina added, her brow lifting, remembering that excuse to have given way to years of deep sorrow in her heart.

"I can't let my father suffer because of me."

The sentiment was there, but Regina understood the irony all too well. Because that's exactly what had happened. Her father was only there in the Underworld because she had put him there. She had ripped his heart out — in the name of giving herself her best chance — and he had died for the cause. It was moments like this — memories like these — that made Regina feel irredeemable, even after all the work she'd done to the contrary.

"Regina, it's alright," Robin cooed, hoping to soothe the obvious pain she was in.

"No," she cut him off. "It's not."

She pulled away from his touch and slid off of the stool, stepping away from the crowd of her supporters, who were all of a sudden suffocating her with their intended good.

"He's here because I killed him," Regina lamented aloud. "The only way I've been able to deal with that all these years is by imagining he went to a better place," she explained, choking on the painful words. Because none of them were proving to be true.

"But. He didn't," she regretted, her gaze falling, sadly looking at her belly, her hands moving to cradle the swell, comforting her child where she could not comfort herself.

"Maybe I should get on that boat," Regina sighed in defeat.

"Yes, you should," Emma replied suddenly, her eyes locking with Regina's.

"Absolutely not," David argued, his brow furrowing. "We're not leaving until we find Hook — together," he demanded.

And for as selfish and idiotic as his words sounded, there was an understanding — even in Regina — that he meant to keep them all together to keep them all safe. It was less about being a team effort now, and more about making sure they all lived through this. And Regina had the most on the line.

"It's dangerous here," Emma answered, shaking her head and unconsciously stepping just a bit closer to Regina.

"Which is why we're not leaving anyone alone," Snow stepped back in.

"Perhaps I can cut through this little family squabble," Gold offered, holding up a vile.

"What the hell is that," David asked in genuine curiosity.

"This is the way to find your deceased pirate," Gold announced triumphantly.

And it would be a lie if that didn't feel like an enormous relief — particularly to Regina, who was once again shifting uncomfortably from hip to hip. Death seemed not to agree with the new life in her belly, and the sooner they found Hook, the sooner they could go home.

"It lets you communicate with the dead," Gold explained further. "Pour this over Hook's grave, and we can stop guessing where he is and simply ask him."

"You're saying Hook has a grave, here, in the Underworld?" David pressed.

"Everyone down here has a grave," Gold replied. "You'll find the cemetery right where you remember it."

"Emma, if this works, we could find Hook before the boat leaves," Snow added hopefully. "We could all get out of here together."

"A fine idea. I suggest you all get moving," Gold quipped.

"No way. You're coming with us," Emma demanded, uninterested in being held back by any of Rumple's unannounced side quests.

"You can do this part on your own," Gold insisted. "There's a boat that's leaving soon. You want to find Hook? Fine. But I have no interest in exploring this world further. You can meet me there. But that's entirely up to you."

"Emma," Snow whispered, pulling her daughter aside. "There's no time to argue. If there's even a chance that this will work, we have to risk it. We have to get Regina out of here," she explained quietly, her words meant only for Emma.

* * *

They stood together in the cemetery, bewildered at what they had just seen. The spell had worked, but only partially. Hook's image appeared, his flesh torn and bleeding. But it was faint and flickering and there had been no opportunity for communication between them.

Emma was on the ground in front of the tombstone marked 'Killian Jones', her fists wrapped tightly in the grass.

"He doesn't know we came for him. He doesn't know we're here — he doesn't know that I care," Emma lamented.

"Yes he does," Snow encouraged, moving to stand at her daughter's side. "And Emma, we will find him," she promised.

"Did you not just see that?" Emma asked, standing up and looking into her mother's eyes. "He's in pain, he's suffering… And look at this place," she whispered, her eyes shifting around her, taking in the eerie landscape around them.

"We have half an hour," she lamented. And then her tone changed. "You have half an hour," she determined, her focus back on her mother — then jumping to Regina.

"Cora has a boat coming. You have to take it or we might all be stuck here."

"If she can arrange it, so can we — after we find Hook," David argued, seeing the look in his daughter's eyes and recognizing it as fight and fire. The same fight and fire he had seen in his wife before. "We are not giving up on you."

"Regina," Emma whispered, moving away from her parents and toward the darkly clothed pregnant woman.

Regina recognized the invitation to break away from the group, and she stepped away, following Emma a few steps over, talking in quiet whispers.

"They're staying. But you should go." Emma's eyes were soft and understanding. She never knew Regina to give up on anything — it was a quality she admired deeply in her. But this was different because this was not her fight.

"No, I — I.." Regina argued, but she stammered. She didn't have a good excuse except that Emma was her friend and she did not want to give up on her.

"Take Robin and Henry…because if you don't, whatever your father is going to face —"

"Probably looks a lot like what…Hook is facing," Regina admitted, processing the horrors of it all out loud.

"I don't know how long it will take to find him," Emma added. She shook her head, sad eyes avoiding Regina's face. "I don't know what condition we'll find him in. Or how easy it will be to get him out. Regina. If the baby comes…" Emma began, but she couldn't bear to finish her thought.

"I know," Regina replied solemnly. She could never forget.

"So, it's settled," Emma whispered. "Get them out of here. Get yourself out of here," she begged tenderly.

Regina's brow was wrinkled and her eyes sad, her face clearly showing her own internal struggle. Because as much as she knew this was the right thing to do, none of it felt right. But what could ever be right down here? But she nodded her head, and agreed.

"There's just something I have to do first," Regina whispered.

* * *

Standing alone in front of a grave, the vile of Gold's potion in her gloved hands, Regina took slow, deep breaths. The sash on her coat was slipping again, but she no longer cared enough to fix it. She stood still, staring at the name on the tombstone, her heart sinking down into the pit of her stomach.

She was crying already, trying to brace herself for what was to come. She tried to imagine the angry words she would hear, the tortured face of the man she loved so dearly as a young girl she would see before her.

Pursing her lips together, she slowly uncorked the bottle, and sprinkled the liquid over the ground.

She could feel the shift in the air, could sense the magic around her working. She could hear soft breathing joining her own. But she didn't lift her gaze. She couldn't face him.

"Regina," the familiar voice rumbled tenderly.

She took in a deep breath, her lungs aching. Her muscles went tense as she did everything in her power to keep from shaking apart.

"Daddy," she whispered, choking on the name, still unable to lift her eyes — to look at the man she had loved, and murdered.

"I'm so sorry," she whimpered, shaking her head. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. And in that moment, she was as far from a cold hearted, vengeful Queen as could possibly be. She was a little girl again, small and full of regret, begging forgiveness, begging for love.

She finally gathered the courage to face him, hesitantly lifting her eyes as her lip quivered, holding back deeper sobs.

"I'm so sorry," she choked — and she felt him drawing near, his arms going around her shoulders. His closeness only broke her down further, the familiarity in his tender touch too great to bear.

"It's okay, dear. It's okay," he promised softly.

And even that was hurting her. Because of course he forgave her. How could she have ever doubted it? How could she have spent so much of her life pushing away the very people who wished her happiness, trading them for the black hole of rage and revenge?

He held her, and stroked her hair as he had done countless times when she was a girl, brushing away tears and kissing away scrapes and bruises. And his voice was soothing, the whispered words "It's okay," spoken over and over as he rocked her in his arms.

"Is it?" Regina asked, sniffling softly from over his shoulder. "Am I really forgiven?"

"Of course," he promised. "I love you no matter what. That's what fathers do," he reminded her lovingly, pulling back to look into her eyes, smiling up at her with nothing but deep, unconditional love.

"Look at you," he whispered, his eyes trailing over her, his heart swelling to the point of bursting at the sight of her belly. "A baby," he said proudly, his eyes twinkling and his chest sticking out just a little more.

Regina laughed in a breath and looked down at her own figure, her hands moving to either side of the swell. "A baby," she agreed.

"You can't stay long," he reminded her, his brow furrowing just slightly.

"No," she agreed. "But…I'm going to see to it that your suffering does not get any worse," she explained, wanting him to know that she would take Cora's offer to spare him being taken to the pit of fire.

"No, Regina," he stopped her, his hands firm against her arms. "Your mother is using me as leverage to get you to leave," he explained. "But I want you to stay."

"You've got a job to do. Helping Snow White, your friends…" He was proud when he said it, because Regina hadn't had many friends growing up. She was a lonely child, and then a lonely Queen for so long.

"They need you. They need your strength. You finally put vengeance aside to be a hero," he reminded her happily. And Regina squirmed at the term, still — and perhaps, always — uncomfortable, undeserving.

"But Mother's going to send you someplace worse," she argued. She was done being responsible for the suffering of everyone around her.

"I—I can't…cause you pain again," she stammered, shaking her head as she looked into his eyes, drowning in regret.

"Mother made her decision. We both know we can't change her mind. But she's given you a way out. Both of us," she whispered happily — because it seemed so simple, and she wanted it to be that simple.

But her father only shook his head. "When you tore my heart out, it was driven by the worst motives. But if you stay, you spread hope. That's the best thing anyone can do. Let your old man see you doing the right thing. Then — I truly won't have died in vain," he promised, and his eyes were smiling brightly, his lips pulled into a wide smile. He was proud. More than proud. He had finally seen his daughter become the woman he'd always knew her to be.

And no sooner were the words passing over his lips, his image was fading, disappearing, and leaving her alone again, standing before his grave.

* * *

Cora had brought her husband, Henry, to the fiery precipice. He stood at the edge, teetering carefully, wincing at the painful waves of heat hitting his face.

Regina rushed in through the tunnel with her son at her side — just in time.

"Let him go, Mother," she gritted out angrily, but her tone was fearful, too.

Henry grasped at the air beside her arm, reaching for her to hold her back, to keep her safe. But Regina had stepped forward again, closer still to her mother.

"You should be on that boat," Cora replied with surprise in her gaze. She had never anticipated that her daughter, after the way she had raised her, would put her friends before herself. She hadn't counted on her staying, on deliberately missing the opportunity to return home safely.

"I can't turn my back on those I love," Regina protested. Another step forward, stumbling slightly this time. Thinking back to the night they'd decided to board Charon's boat to the Underworld, Regina was now seriously questioning her sanity in choosing heeled boots.

"I know that seems like the right choice, but life doesn't work that way," Cora crooned, disappointment in her tone. "I implore you, leave this place.

"No, Regina. Stay here," Henry's trembling voice interceded from his place on the ledge. "Help your friends. She's trying to bait you…"

"I didn't come back just to help my friends," Regina insisted. "I came back to help everyone."

"That's not possible," Cora sneered. "You have to trust me."

"Let him go," Regina begged softly.

"Oh, please listen to reason. Listen to me. Either way, my time in the Underworld is done. Yours can be, too. Just do what I say.." Cora demanded — and there was desperation in her tone, and Regina didn't fully understand why.

"Henry, stand back," Regina said softly, pushing her son back from her and stepping forward towards her mother.

"Please don't force my hand," Cora begged, backing away from her daughter, bracing herself for somethign. "I don't want to do this."

"Then don't," Regina begged, not understanding what the underlying issue was. But there was something clearly at work.

"I'm sorry," Cora whispered, and without hesitation, she waved her hand, the fire lifting from the pit and swirling around her husband, pulling him in.

Regina shouted and rushed forward onto the ledge, but stumbled back, stopped by a wall of fire.

"One day you'll understand," Cora explained from behind her, and waving her hand again, she disappeared in a cloud of magic.

"Daddy," Regina whimpered, watching helplessly as the fire encircled him completely. "I'm so sorry," she cried — for the hundredth time the day.

Henry said nothing.

But the fire began to pull back from him, and his posture slowly became more certain.

"Daddy?" Regina called again, this time softer — less frightened and more confused.

"Stop. Stay there," he begged, not wanting her to come any closer, desperate to keep her from hurting herself. "I'm okay," he promised.

And as he turned back to where the fire had just lifted from, a while light began to appear, the ledge suddenly growing longer — a bridge.

"What's happening?" Regina asked, tears staining her cheeks.

"I don't know," he confessed, but he pressed on, taking a step onto the bridge that had not been there a moment ago.

"It's so…It's beautiful," he whispered, standing in awe of the brilliant light before him

Regina breathed out deeply, one hand cradling her belly, the other to her side, keeping her balanced as she stepped forward just a bit further.

Her father turned to look at his daughter, so changed from her past, and he smiled. Walking back towards her, hoping to comfort her one last time, he held his arms out to her, holding her firmly in place, grounding her — as he had always done.

"I know now what my unfinished business was. It was you," he said with a smile.

"For so long, I let your mother get in the way of who you really are. It was the biggest regret of my life," he confessed. "But now…you're free of her. And I've never been more proud." he said softly, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hi," Henry interrupted timidly, stepping up behind his mother.

Regina's father's eyes went wide and as he took in the figure of the boy at her side, his gaze darting back to his daughter. "Is that…" he began, his heart soaring.

"This is your grandson," Regina whispered proudly, her deep brown eyes glittering behind a veil of tears. "This is Henry."

She said his name with deep pride, because she knew what this would mean to him. Her son had taken his name, in his honor. And Regina's very soul was shaken at the realization that these two men had helped shape her into the woman she was now — perhaps more than anyone else in her life. Her father had raised her alongside Cora, gently instilling a sense of duty, encouraging her to explore forgiveness and hope. And her son had shown her unconditional love at a time when she was ready to receive it. He had guided her to the realization that her past didn't dictate her future, and being a 'villain' wasn't as black and white as storybooks made it seem.

"Thank you, Grandpa," Henry said with genuine gratitude in his gaze. "For believing in her like I do."

Regina's heart broke at her son's words, and she turned to look at him with deep love in her eyes. She was crying freely, her lips pulled into a sad smile — but a smile none the less.

"Thank you, Henry," the older man spoke softly. "For being there when I couldn't."

Regina was trembling, feeling both weighed down and lightened by the outpouring of love from these two men in her life. She stood glassy eyed, staring at her father, trying to memorize his face — because she knew in her heart that this was goodbye, forever.

"You take good care of her," Regina's father said with a nod, turning over his shoulder, back toward the light pouring from the walls of the cave.

"It's time for me to go," he admitted softly.

"Daddy, no," Regina begged, but she knew she couldn't keep him there forever.

"I love you, Regina," the old man sobbed quietly. "Never forget who you really are."

Regina nodded, and was only half aware of her son taking her hand. She let out a breath, hiccuping softly as she watched him go. He was swallowed by the brilliant, beautiful light, and a wave of peace washed over her. She lifted her free hand to brush away a tear, staring at the place where her father had just been standing.

She was determined to continue making him proud.

* * *

Walking back into the center of the twisted town, Regina held her son's hand and leaned into him slightly. Their pace was slow and solemn, but her eyes were smiling — and for that, Robin was grateful.

They'd all been waiting there, unwilling to move on without the entire group, and there was shared relief passed between them all to see that Regina was safe.

"Tell me your father's okay," Snow begged hopefully.

"He's better than okay," Regina promised, finally releasing Henry's hand, and bringing hers against her belly.

"He's in a better place now," Henry explained, smiling when he felt Robin's hand on his shoulder.

"Wait…that means that everyone here…" Snow began.

"Can be saved," David finished.

"Every soul in this town has unfinished business. And chances are, for a lot of them, we're that business," Regina suggested. She knew she was pressing her luck with this hinted suggestion, because more than anyone, they all wanted to get Regina home — sooner rather than later.

"You've all deluded yourself if you think these people are worth your time," Gold chimed in angrily.

"They're not the dearly departed. They are dead, wretched souls, and I want no part of it."

"What you want doesn't matter," Emma interrupted. "I wasn't bluffing — I'm happy to tell Belle about your return to Dark One-ness."

"Our agreement was to find your pirate, and get the Hell out of here" he reminded her, his emphasis on 'hell' tickling himself enough to grin. "If you want to distract yourself with this other asinine pursuit, be my guest. I'm out."

"So," Henry said with a half smile, adjusting the straps of his backpack, reminding them all that he was still just a boy.

"Who's ready for Operation: Firebird?"

"Is that what we're calling it?" Regina asked with a laugh.

"You referring to the mythological bird? Or the muscle car," Emma teased, crossing over to her son and wrapping her arm around his shoulder. They walked ahead, leading the way. And Snow and Charming followed happily behind.

Regina and Robin walked slowly together at the back of the herd, Robin turning when he felt Regina slow her steps. She turned to look at the fallen clocktower, and she beamed proudly when the time ticked forward, one minute ahead.

* * *

Cora entered the old library, and activated the elevator switch with an easy spell. It clanked heavily and shook as it sped wildly down, down, down — landing with a thud. The doors opened and she stepped out nervously, feeling her stomach turn as the sound of classical music grew louder with each step forward.

"Did you hear that Cora?" Hades asked with a smile, leaning back in his throne-like leather chair. At his feet was a woman in rage, feverishly filing his toenails.

"The clock," he explained. "Did you hear that little tick up there? It was the sound of your incompetence."

"Why do you want my daughter gone," Cora asked, shaking her head, wishing that this had gone any other way.

"What threat could she pose to you?"

"You see…each clock tick means a soul has left my domain. Do I look like I like to lose anything?" Hades asked with a sickening grin.

"I did what you asked," Cora pressed on. "I didn't want to…I jeopardized my relationship with her.."

"Yes, because you thought you could get her to do what I wanted, which you couldn't." Hades chuckled darkly.

"If it makes you feel any better, she's going to regret her decision," he offered, now laughing without hesitance.

"Don't threaten her," Cora demanded — though she was in little position to do so.

"Really, Cora? I'm surprised you care so much about Regina…especially after what you did to your other daughter," he reminded her, quite pleased with himself. "All so you could claw your way out of the peasant life. Which. Suggests the perfect punishment."

With the flick of his finger against his wine goblet, Hades transformed Cora back into the woman she once had been — the version of herself she hated the most. A Miller's daughter.

"Look at that," Hades cackled. "A miller's daughter, once again. Hurry now, Cora…you have flour to deliver. That's what they do at mills, isn't it? I never paid much attention. Seems like such dull work."

"No…" Cora begged. "You promised you'd save her…"

"And you promised not to fail," he reminded her angrily. And he stood from his chair and closed the space between them, the magic crackling all around him and stinging like shards of glass.

"Something to think about….for eternity," he laughed.


	15. Chapter 15

"We keep going until we find a trail that's hot," Emma insisted, walking alongside Henry. They'd covered a significant amount of ground in the forest identical to Storybrooke's, but there was no sign of Hook.

"You think there'd be more of those in the Underworld — " Regina breathed heavily, leaning into Robin's arm as they made their way up the path, a muffled grunt leaving her lips as she felt him pull her weight up and over a steep mound of dirt.

Henry snorted to himself at his mother's joke — which no one else seemed to get.

"There's no sign of Hook in the North Woods," Regina sighed as their pace slowed, happy for even a moment to catch her breath.

"Well, we have to keep going" Emma admitted. "Emphasis on the _we_ ," she added, her eyes on Regina. "Why don't you go back to town. Find a booth at Granny's," she suggested, knowing she needed more than the break she was taking now.

Regina rolled her eyes as Emma began to suggest the Troll Bridge to Robin and Henry, but the mention of the bridge she'd tried so incredibly unsuccessfully to keep David and Snow from in Storybrooke caused her to pause.

"Wait — There may be a way to make the search quicker," Regina interrupted hopefully.

"How?" Emma asked, eyes narrowing.

"In Storybrooke — I have schematics," Regina remembered, her eyes brightening. "Maps — of the whole town, every last inch of it."

"So you think the equivalent maps of this town are here?" Emma asked, and normally she would be skeptical, but years of living in and amongst the town and its people kept that skepticism at bay.

"Everything else in this Bizarro Storybrooke has an analog so far," Regina suggested with a hopeful shrug.

"I'm on it," Robin promised, rubbing Regina's back once up and down before stepping away. "You stay with Emma." And that was not a suggestion but a demand, because if Robin wasn't at her side, he needed to know that someone else was — and Emma had magic. And a gun.

"Wait," Regina reached back out for him, grabbing his arm. "Take Henry," she said with a nod.

"It might be dangerous," Robin suggested hesitantly.

"My mother's gone now, the office should be empty," she reminded him. "And no one knows it better than Henry," she said with a smile, her gaze falling to her son. "He'll be fine. You'll be there to protect him."

Robin paused, but relented quickly, smiling as he nodded in agreement before leaning in to kiss her sweetly.

"All right, come on. Let's go."

* * *

"Regina! I found something!" Emma called over her shoulder. She was crouched over a broken plant, the leaves soaked in a sticky crimson.

Regina followed the sound of her voice, carefully making her way over. Tasks like these had been significantly easier when she was twenty pounds lighter, and not carrying it all in front. Holding onto a branch to steady her steps, she stepped cautiously over a fallen log, leaning back as she maneuvered the steep terrain.

"Blood," she recognized right away, and she bent down — if only slightly — to investigate further.

"There's a trail of it," Emma explained. "It's not dry yet. It's fresh… Killian."

Emma stood and turned in her place, shouting his name into the open forest. She stepped forward, and then began to trot off, in no direction in particular.

Regain straightened her back and let out a sigh, turning to follow her as quickly as she could — and wondering if the booth at Granny's was still an option.

"Killian?" Emma called out again — and there was movement behind a fallen tree. But when the two rounded the edge, it was clearly not the person they were looking for.

It was a young girl, dressed in faded and tattered robes, her face dirty and her eyes wide.

"Not Killian, but I know him," the girl whispered.

"Who are you? Where's Killian?" Emma asked — but any reply was interrupted by the sudden growl of some hell beast.

"We have to get out of here," Regina whispered, backing away from the sound. She knew there was no chance she could outrun whatever was out there.

"It's coming, hide me…we have to go — now!" the girl begged frantically. And that was more than enough.

Emma grabbed hold of Regina's arm and the three were whisked away from the forest in an instant.

When they reappeared, they were in familiar surroundings once again. The Charming's apartment — or something like it.

"Your parents' apartment? Really?" Regina, hoping that her sarcasm would mask her sudden unease. She stepped to the side and grabbed hold of the back of a covered arm chair for balance, her free hand pressing to the side of her belly, wincing when it earned her a sharp kick.

"It was the first place I thought of," Emma explained, ripping the sheet off of another couch and helping the young girl down.

"What if whoever — or whatever — lives here, you know, comes home?" Regina asked, fumbling with her coat, tugging at the sash and zippers to relieve herself from the sudden feeling of slowly suffocating.

"I don't think we have to worry about that," Emma said softly, reaching to life a framed photo of her parents from the end table.

Regina reached out and took it, examining it carefully, her forehead wrinkling.

"So this place is just waiting for your parents to die so they can move in?" she asked in only half disbelief.

"Creepy, but that seems to be the case…" Emma offered. "I think we're safe here."

"It's officially a cold day in hell when I move in with the Charmings," Regina muttered mostly to herself, leaning down to set the frame back in its place — this time hissing and recoiling in reaction to another movement in her belly. Her hand pressed again to the side of the swell, and she breathed out slowly, letting the pain pass.

She could hear Emma step towards her, and without turning to look, Regina held up her hand to wave her away.

"She's just moving around," she promised.

Emma sighed and turned to the girl sitting on the couch, frantic fear in her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Emma asked, moving to sit beside her.

"I will be."

"And Hook?"

"I…I don't know," she admitted.

"Where is he," Emma asked, trying to keep her voice even, trying to resist the urge to reach forward and shake her until answers came.

"In an underground prison," she explained, her eyes following the dark haired woman, watching as she eased herself down into a chair. "I….escaped through tunnels," she added, her gaze moving back to the blonde at her side.

"They let out in a cave somewhere in the woods and….the next thing I knew, you found me."

"Where is the cave — could you find it again?" Emma asked hurriedly, seeing this as her best chance to rescue Hook.

"Yes," the girl answered in a whisper. "But it's being guarded by something…terrible."

"What's guarding the cave," Emma prodded gently.

"It…it has three heads. It…it's teeth can crush your bones with a single bite. And those eyes…they burn right through your soul as it finishes you off," she whispered tearfully — and it sounded as though she had witnessed it all first hand.

"Nothing can defeat that monster…"

"That's not true," Snow interrupted with a smile, she and David suddenly standing in the doorway.

"I know exactly what this beast is…and how we can defeat it," she grinned determinedly.

* * *

Snow led the way, stepping through the front door of Granny's, followed by Emma and Regina. They had argued on the way about Regina's suggestion of who to ask for help, but Regina had won out — as always.

"You really think she'll know where he is?" Emma asked, holding the door open for Regina behind her.

"Of course," Regina sang with a smirk. "We need someone who sees everyone," she added, loudly enough for the Blind Witch to hear.

"Hey child-muncher," Regina taunted, walking up to the counter with a grin. "We're looking for someone."

"Why should I help you, Regina? You burned me alive….. Unless you're offering to trade that pudgy wee thing in your belly," she sneered, blind eyes closing as she practically salivated all over the counter.

"Watch it," Emma leered, leaning in in Regina's defense.

"It was Hansel and Gretel," Regina corrected the witch.

"At your behest, and with your fireball," the witch gritted.

"Fine. Fine. But you stole my apple," Regina argued, surprised at how quickly her irritation was returning.

"What do you think happens when you steal from a witch, witch?" Regina smirked, pleased with herself at that remark.

"Fair enough," the blonde sorceress conceded with a sigh. "So, who are you looking for?"

"His name's Hercules," Snow replied for Regina. "You know, from the myths?"

"I know who Hercules is," the witch laughed to herself. "He comes in here on his lunch break every day. And no matter how hard I try to fatten him up, his muscles are always bulging. Shame. He'd make a great Sunday roast…"

"Lunch break from where," Snow asked with aggravation not well hidden in her tone.

And Snow got her answer, and left Regina and Emma to go find her old friend.

* * *

"Wait —," Robin called to Henry as he reached the door marked 'Mayor'.

Henry stopped and turned back to look at the older man, waiting for his prompt, his hand hovering inches away from the knob. Robin reached forward, grabbing hold of it, only to be pushed back by a green, crackling magic.

"Protection spell," Robin sighed, his eyes already scanning the room for a second option.

"Looks like Grandma Cora left this place locked up," Henry noted.

"Not completely," Robin said with a smile, his eyes locking on a small lip of metal poking over the back of a strategically placed sofa. Crossing the room and pulling it away from the wall, Robin sighed happily to find an intake vent, just large enough for someone to fit through. Feeling along the edges, he quickly found its weak spot, lifting it up and off of the wall, revealing a long black tunnel.

"Okay. Alright, you stay here," Robin insisted, already shedding his bow and quiver.

"No," Henry stopped him. "Someone needs to stand guard outside. And only one of us knows where to look in my mom's office," Henry added with a proud smile — because this was his alone. This was something that bound he and Regina together in a way that even Robin was not privy to.

"Be very careful," Robin insisted with a sigh, relenting, and agreeing to let Henry pass through.

Henry crawled through into the office was ease, and stood up triumphantly, dusting the clumps of lint from the palms of his hands.

But he was not alone.

"Hello, darling," the familiar woman's voice crooned, and Henry turned to find the overly thin, extraordinarily tall villain standing across from him.

"Cruella," Henry breathed out nervously.

"Tell me, how is your mother," she asked with a sharp smile.

There was a long pause, and Henry didn't know how to answer — he was certain that Regina wouldn't want her to know about the baby, or anything else for that matter.

"Oh yes," Cruella recalled with a sigh, her smile only growing. "With you I need to be more specific.." she hissed. "How is the one who killed me…"

* * *

"This is the tunnel she said she came out of," Emma said softly, leading the way, keeping Regina on the inside of their group. Snow and Hercules were right behind.

"Alright, wonder boy," Regina breathed out. "Are you sure you can do this?'

" _Regina_ ," Snow whispered, scolding her as a mother would a child who had spoken rudely.

"We'll find your friend," Hercules said with a nod. "Don't worry."

He stepped in front of them all, and insisted that they wait for him there. His steps were slow but sure, and he made his way down the tunnel, until he was alone. His sword was drawn, and his heart was pounding, praying that the confidence he was bolstering in his mind would spread through to the rest of him.

There was a familiar low growl that came from the darkest point ahead, and the wind howled as it moved through the narrow passageway. It smelled like death itself. Hercules adjusted the weight of the sword in his hand and stepped his feet apart, bracing himself, and praying this would end in his favor.

But the moment the beast stepped forward, its glowing eyes peering out from the blackness, his sword dropped — his courage gone. He turned, and ran, and as Regina caught sight of him running back toward them, she silently cursed the idiotic boy for bringing them down here with him, for putting them all in danger.

Hercules' pace didn't slow as he crashed into the group of women, and Regina stumbled back, instinctively holding her hand out towards him in protection — but the other was at her belly once again, because clearly, he was running from something.

They could hear snarling, growling and heavy breathing, and Snow lifted an arrow from her quiver, holding it taut against her bow. She stepped forward, placing herself between Regina — and whatever it was that was down that tunnel. And then there was the sound of a whistle — of a master calling off his dog.

And then silence.

"What the hell was that," Regina asked nervously, peering over Snow's shoulder.

"I called them off," a man's voice replied — and his tone send a chill through the air.

When he appeared, he was dressed in a dark suit. Medium build, but the commanding presence of a giant.

"Who are you," Emma asked, sizing him up.

"My Uncle," Hercules answered softly from behind.

"Hades?" Regina asked, her eyes narrowing. She had always expected something greater, something more magnificent — but then, she, herself, must have been a bit of a disappointment. A small, petite woman with the fearful command befitting the monicker 'Evil Queen'.

"Don't look so surprised," he spoke coolly, sauntering towards them. "Who'd you think was in charge of this place — your mommy?" he taunted.

"Well, if this is your realm, maybe you can answer a few questions," Regina offered with an arched brow. "Like why does this hell-hole look like Storybrooke?"

"I have my reasons, and I don't have to share them with you," Hades replied happily.

"We're not afraid of you," Snow interrupted, stepping forward, her arm going away from her side as if to shield Regina from any further interaction.

Hades gasped mockingly and grinned. "Snow White. My nephew said you were a spitfire, but trust me, you should be quite afraid of me. Because the next time you interfere with my family, I will come after yours."

"Bring it," Emma challenged. "We're not going to rest until we find Hook."

"Oh, and that must make you Emma," Hades deduced with a grin.

"Since your pirate likes to send you messages, I told him I would deliver this one personally." And with that said, he held up a hook, dangling it tauntingly in front of the blonde, laughing as he watched her eyes go wide at the sight of the dripping blood.

"What did you do to him…"

"It's not what I've already done that you should worry about," he laughed. "It's what I'm about to do." Hades dropped the Hook carelessly to the floor and was consumed by blue flames, disappearing from the tunnels once more.

* * *

They'd returned to the Charming's apartment after their time in the tunnels — they were all exhausted, and defeated, and had no plan this time. They needed to think. And more importantly, to rest and recharge.

Emma sat at the counter, staring at the bloodied Hook, realizing that this mission would be far more difficult than she had ever anticipated. David was offering her some comfort, promising that they would find their way out of this — they always did.

Regina was sitting in the arm chair, her head tipped back, leaning into the soft cushion, eyes closed in concentration. One hand was draped over the arm of the chair, her grip firm. The other was sweeping gently, back and forth over her outstretched womb, slow, deep breaths drawn in and let out quietly. This was not lost on Emma, despite her own internal struggles.

"..'Gina," she said softly, moving to stand over the dark haired woman, her eyes soft with concern. Because it had been two weeks already. And this was supposed to be a one day mission — in and out. But nothing was ever that easy.

Regina opened her eyes at the sound of Emma's voice, startled by her close proximity. She straightened her back and shifted her hips in the seat, stopping the movement of her hand over her belly. But she forgot about the death grip she had on the arm of the chair.

"What's going on," Emma asked, lowering herself into a chair beside Regina.

"Nothing, what do you mean," Regina asked, her voice implying her own innocence well enough.

Emma rolled her head to the side, her eyes moving to the white knuckles of Regina's hand against the chair.

Regina realized her error and quickly let go of the armrest, folding her hand quietly in her lap.

"Regina," Emma tried again, gently nudging the older woman with her words.

"I'm fine," Regina promised. "I'm just tired," she explained.

"I thought we'd had this conversation already," Emma sighed, leaning back in her seat and showing her annoyance. "I can always tell when you're lying, Regina. What's going on."

"I'm — fine. Really," Regina insisted, shaking her head.

Emma narrowed her eyes, but could tell that pressing her any further would not get them anywhere. With a sigh, she leaned forward and stood, crossing her arms over her chest.

"We'll get you home in time," Emma promised — and she meant to keep it. She knew that whatever else was going on, Regina was worried about what Cora had said to her. And in all honesty, so was everyone else.

Regina nodded and offered a half smile. She hoped that was true.

"Regina…" David's voice called from beside the window where ehe was looking out at the street below — his tone was tense and he was already backing away from whatever he had seen.

"What is it," she asked, hands moving to either side of the chair, pushing herself up to her feet. "Did Snow talk Muscles into giving it another go?" she asked, laughing to herself as she made her way to David's side — but he was backing away, still, and they collided.

"I don't think so," he said hurriedly, his eyes wide.

There was a sudden screech, and the sound of glass shattering and wood splintering above them. The bed upstairs in the loft was crashing down into the kitchen, the apartment caving in.

"RUN. GO." Emma shouted, pushing Regina out of the way of a falling ceiling lamp.

They were all sprinting to the door, David ushering each of them out before himself. They moved as quickly as they could — the girl from the tunnels ahead, then Emma, and then Regina. Regina was moving slower than she would have liked, leaning heavily into the railing as she clopped down each step.

" _Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit_ ," she muttered under her breath with each step, cursing herself for how slowly she was moving — for the heels she was wearing — for agreeing to any of this over a peaceful day at home in Storybrooke.

"Let me guess — the Cerberus?" Emma called over her shoulder as she reached the bottom step, looking up to see Regina and David still making their way down.

There was a loud growl, and then the door to the apartment was splintered into a thousand pieces as the three headed beast broke free of the doorway, three mouths snapping wildly in their direction.

* * *

The four sprinted down the main street, David holding Regina upright, helping to keep her at a pace that would allow her to live another day, when Snow and Hercules were spotted just ahead.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Snow asked frantically, her eyes locked on Regina.

She was panting to catch her breath, bending forward to rest her hands on the tops of her knees, her belly tightening strangely beneath her coat.

"Cerberus. He found us," David explained, looking down to rub Regina's back soothingly, a sigh of relief on his lips when she finally straightened to fully standing.

"Where's the girl?" Snow asked, looking around them.

"She ran when it attacked," Emma replied. "We gave her a head start, but there was only so long we could hold it off."

"We should split up again. We have to find her before that monster does," Snow sighed, and again her eyes were on Regina, unsure of how to best protect her.

"I'll stay with Regina. Go," David offered with a nod, and his arm was linked with hers once again. "Come on," he encouraged gently.

The hellhound had found Snow, Hercules and the girl easily, but thanks to Snow's quick actions — and her impossibly good aim — it was defeated. They were safe, again — for now.

* * *

At the diner, happy to accept even a few quiet moments of peace and rest, Emma, Regina, Snow and Charming watched as Hercules and the girl seemed to better acquaint themselves.

Sitting on a stool at the counter, Regina counted every aching muscle in her body. And then she counted her child's movement. And then she counted how many weeks they had remaining before giving birth in the Underworld would become a genuine problem. Letting out a sigh when the baby seemed to do a full turn within her, Regina leaned back, stretching her abdomen out to allow it just a few more inches of space.

"Looks like Herc found a friend," David said with a knowing smile, gesturing to the table where the young lovers sat.

Regina curled her lip and refused to look in their direction — because only a Charming would find this endearing. A romance in Hell.

* * *

"Henry," Robin whispered through the dark tunnel into the Mayor's office, elated when he heard the boy coming through. "Henry, you alright?"

"Yeah," Henry's voice grunted, making his way back through with a little more difficulty than before.

"Did you find anything?" Robin asked, his eyes locked on the boy's, making sure he was safe.

"Uh…no, nothing," Henry lied. "Dead end."

He said nothing of Cruella, of the information she' given him, of the request she'd made of him. Of the revelation that the Author's pen not only possessed more power than he had originally thought, but that it was its own entity — a living being — with a counterpart in the Underworld.

* * *

"The prisoner that you aided in escape has now moved on from this realm," Hades sneered, waltzing casually towards Hook, who lay broken and battered on the ground.

"Good for her," Hook replied dryly.

Hades slid a long, metal chisel from its sheath at his hip in response, smiling as he twirled it between his fingers, taunting the pirate with glee.

"Get on with it, then," Hook said gruffly, clenching his jaw to brace for whatever new torture this would be.

"Oh this?" Hades asked with a laugh. No, this…isn't for you. It's for your friends."

"What the bloody hell am I supposed to do with this," Hook asked, wincing in his words.

"Simple accounting, really. At first I wanted your friends to leave," Hades explained. "I really had such a smooth-running operation going here before they arrived. But now I've decided they've caused too much damage. So my vindictive side — it wants to punish them," he whispered, turning on his heel after handing Hook the instrument.

"So, from now on, for every soul your friends set free, one of them is going to have to stay," Hades announced with glee, waving his hand and conjuring three tomb stones in the center of his throne room.

"And captain," he added, his smile only growing. "You get to decide who…"


	16. Chapter 16

"Found more arrows," Regina announced proudly, holding up her found treasure.

The Charming's Underworld apartment had certainly seen better days. But in a joint effort over the course of several days, they managed to get the bed back up the stairs into the loft, and temporarily patch the roof. Regina, of course, had not been able to help in either of those areas, so in finding more ammunition to help their cause, she felt quite satisfied that her presence there was not entirely useless. And she needed to believe that because otherwise, she was putting her child at risk for nothing.

"You do _not_ want to see what that hell dog left upstairs," Robin said with a sigh as he made his way down the steps and into the living area.

"So, we think we're ready?" Emma asked, anxious to move on from being a part of the cleaning crew and back into the action.

Before an answer came, Gold was walking in through the front door, glancing about in disgust at the chaos around the apartment.

"What are you doing," he asked dryly.

"We're going to get Hook, what's it look like?" David asked, taking the arrows from Regina and carefully loading them into Snow's quiver.

"We know Hades will have him in some sort of isolation," Emma explained with a nod. "Meg told us there's an entrance near by."

Gold only rolled his eyes in disapproval. "So. All forty five of you are going to slip down into the deepest level of detention in the Underworld. Hades knows you're here," he reminded them with obvious aggravation.

"He'll put up barriers toe keep the living out of all the places he doesn't want us going. You walk into his domain, you'll all be puffs of dust."

Emma relented, regrettably. "So, we get a new plan."

"Correct," Gold replied. "The five of you, occupy yourselves as you will. Perhaps _cleaning_ …" he suggested, eyeing the ceiling fan laying tipped on its side in the center of the floor.

Turning to Emma, he continued. "You and I will go in with the assistance of a helpful dead person. I can extend their aura, if you will, so that two living souls can get through Hades' barrier."

"Wait a minute," Emma interrupted, her head rolling to the side — because who here would want to help Rumplestilskin.

"Yesterday you hid in your shop — today you're going to lead the charge to find a man that you hate?" she asked with suspicion in her voice.

"Yes, because I realized that if I don't step in, then we are never going to get home. And I want very much to get home to be with my wife."

"Okay… so how do we get a helpful dead person to loan their aura so we can confront the god of the Underworld himself?" Emma asked with narrow eyes, not quite seeing how this plan was any better than her own.

"You leave that to me. I've got someone in mind. Someone I've known a long time."

* * *

With Emma gone, off with Gold to make headway in their plan to find Hook, Snow and David had offered to take Henry to Granny's for something to eat, hoping to give Robin and Regina the chance for some down time. And the pair gladly accepted the opportunity.

Regina's heavy black coat was slung over the nightstand beside the bed in the loft. Her heeled boots were discarded at the foot of the bed, beside Robin's. His bow and quiver hung off of the bedpost, and the two laid close together atop the sheets.

Her grey turtleneck was bunched high beneath her breasts, the top of her black pants tucked low beneath her belly. Her stretched womb was bare, and Robin's large hand was open over the swell.

Regina breathed in slowly, her own hand lost in the pool of her long dark hair against he pillow, and she was quiet, watching him, watching her. This kind of intimacy was reserved for him, alone, and she smiled, silently thanking Snow for allowing them this desperately needed time together.

Letting out a quiet laugh when the baby moved against her in short, strong bursts, she let her eyes meet his.

"She's strong," Regina hummed happily.

"She takes after her mother," Robin replied, his eyes unmoving from her belly, marveling at how it rippled with proof of life.

Regina smiled, but said nothing, and it was in part because she didn't want to disturb his obvious connection with their child, but it was also because she didn't fully believe him. She certainly didn't feel strong.

"Regina," Robin said softly after several more minutes passed in silence.

"Hm," she hummed in reply, her eyes closed peacefully, her body melting into the soft down of the bed.

Robin smiled sadly as he watched her. He knew this would pull her from the obvious bliss she was in, but it had been weighing heavily on him for days now.

"It's been weeks," he said quietly.

And Regina's dark eyes opened.

"I know," she said softly, letting out a sigh. She flinched, obviously trying to move. But pinned beneath the weight of her own belly, she struggled — until he offered his hand.

Pulling against him, using his strength, Regina rolled onto her side — and with the weight off of her back, her belly seemed to expand several inches more.

"Five weeks," Robin added sadly.

"I know," she said again, her hand moving to press against the heavy swell, cradling her own mass.

"Regina, every day we're down here…" Robin sighed, shaking his head — because he never should have let her come. Not when their happiness was already so fragile. Not with their luck.

"I know," Regina hummed, a third time. "But what choice did I have," she asked, her eyes soft and sad as she looked into his.

"I know." It was Robin's turn this time, the phrase hanging in the air between them.

"It will be alright," Regina hummed, her eyes slipping closed again, her body and her mind growing weary.

Robin leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, inching closer to her on the bed until there was no space between them. His hand found its way back to her hip — then to her belly, always to her belly — and he held her gently, watching over her as she fell asleep, praying that she was right — that this would all be alright.

* * *

The idea had come to her during that afternoon of peaceful sleep. Despite her happiness, and deep love she felt for Robin, and the comfort he had brought her that day and every day, she had dreamed of Daniel. And when she woke, she wondered where the young boy — her first love — would be in all of this. She thought of how kind and gentle and innocent he had been when they were in love, and she was sure that he would have moved on to a better place. But her thoughts took her then to her father — because it didn't seem to matter how 'good' you were. This was a place for unfinished business. And having your heart ripped out the evening you were meant to escape to a new life with your young love was likely a qualifier for unfinished business.

Dressing hastily, and then angrily to find that her pants were growing tighter still, Regina left the comfort of the Charming's apartment in search of answers. And much as in Storybrooke, her first stop was Granny's.

"Hey. Where's your boss," Regina asked stepping up to the counter and finding a young — annoyingly silent — girl where the Blind Witch should have been.

Her only reply was a nervous finger pointed upwards.

"No," Regina sighed, rolling her eyes. "Not some deity. Your boss here," she clarified. "The Blind Witch?"

But no sooner had her words left her mouth, Regina was turning over her shoulder at the sudden clip-clop of high heels. She turned just in time to catch a glimpse of black and white and fur.

"Nevermind," she offered to the girl, already pushing away from the counter to go after her well known villainous acquaintance.

"YOU." Regina demanded, stopping Cruella in her tracks.

"Hello, Darling," the lanky woman spoke, obviously regretting not moving more quickly.

"You can help," Regina admitted.

"I can? — I mean. Of course I can."

"Tell me about the graveyard," Regina prodded, hoping to gain a better understanding of how the Underworld worked — and who its residents were. "I need to find someone."

"Oh, it's just a chat you want," Cruella breathed out almost in relief. "Well, if you're looking for someone, simply use your magic."

Regina's strong gaze faltered, and she pursed her lips together — her telling sign of weakness.

"Ohhh," Cruella crooned, quite pleased with the revelation. "Having trouble are we? Magic's a little tricky down here, isn't it, darling?" Cruella asked with a smile.

In truth, Regina hadn't been able to use magic since the first day they'd arrived. She'd felt it leave her as they crossed the docks into the Underworld. She'd said nothing, hoping it would return to her as she adjusted. But as the weeks passed, her hope was dwindling.

"Let's sit down and be civilized," Cruella suggested — and Regina cast aside her reservations for the comfort of being off of her feet once again.

* * *

"The way in is _here_?" Emma asked, staring up at the Underworld version of her own home. Gold, and his past wife, Milah, were following behind. It was Milah's aura they would borrow to mask their presence in rescuing Hook.

"So, what. The gates of Hell are in my house?" Emma asked with thickly layered annoyance.

"As was the Stone of Excalibur. The pirate has a back for targeting real estate with hidden value," Gold chided.

They entered the house, and Emma moved instinctively to the basement door — where she had happily kept her secrets as the Dark One in Storybrooke. She opened the latch with ease — and without need for magic — but she was stopped by a white pulsing magic.

"There's a barrier, alright. So, what's she going to do?" Emma asked, turning over her shoulder to look at Milah, wondering how this was all going to work.

"Joining hands will be fine," Gold explained.

And Emma rolled her eyes, but did as she was told — and she should have known that he would have an answer.

The three linked together, joined by their hands, and passed through the door without issue, proceeding down, deep into the furthest depths of the Underworld. Each step brought them closer to their mission — and each step rewarded them with the growing stench of death.

* * *

"I see you admiring my fur," Cruella sang with a smile, reaching to her shoulder to stroke the thick white pelt.

"Doe skin, of all things," she hummed, clearly quite pleased with herself. "I'm not saying it's Bambi's iconic dead mother…but I'm not saying it's not," she laughed.

"Just tell me about the graveyard," Regina sighed, leaning back into the booth in an effort to stretch out her back and to allow her child room to move. She swore she was being bruised from the inside out and she blamed Robin for such a restless child.

"If I find a headstone, does that mean that person's here…in…'Underbrooke'?" she asked, ignoring her own cleverly coined term for the promise of information.

" _Underbrooke_ ," Cruella laughed. "Oh, you are clever," she encouraged. "But no. It just means they're passing through, that's all. Or have passed through."

"Who are you looking for," she pressed further, leaning her gloved elbows on the table, her heavy fur slumping forward.

"Nevermind who," Regina answered with narrowed eyes. "I just… I wanna know where they are."

"I have a map here," Cruella offered, lifting a hideous fur pouch up and setting it on the table. "Now that I've been made Mayor — oh. Thanks to your recently departed mother — it's got a list of cemetery plots," she explained, unfolding the map and spreading it out between them.

"And you have to know how to interpret the headstones," she added. "You see, there's three — what would you call them… — settings," she decided on.

"If the headstone is upright, it means the person is still here, in town. If it's tipped over, it means there soul has gone on to a better place. Happy person, tippy stone," she hummed cheerfully.

"And the third…'setting'," Regina asked, leaning into the question.

"If it's cracked, well…that's bad news for them."

"How so," Regina pressed. "They got pulled under to…wherever is worse than this place?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yes, but. No one who's anyone goes there anymore," Cruella answered with a tight smile, her laugh unconvincing that there was any humor in her words.

* * *

With enough information to take Cruella's map to the graveyard, Regina had reluctantly set aside years of complicated history and asked Snow to accompany her. Together, the two walked in silence almost the entire way, every so often making small talk and avoiding the looming topic of why they were there.

"Thank you for coming," Regina said softly, finally, as they rounded the path to the next set of plots.

"Of course," Snow answered, offering the older woman a tender smile. "I couldn't let you do this alone."

Looking down, map in hand, Snow counted softly, her eyes lifting to each tombstone — until her eyes settled on the one they'd been searching for.

"I found him," Snow announced with weight in her tone.

Regina stood a few paces off, her body turned away, afraid of what she would see. She breathed slowly, her anxiety rising along with memories of a darker time — and deep, deep regret.

"It's okay, you can look," Snow promised, gently encouraging her once-stepmother to face what they'd come to.

Regina turned reluctantly, swallowing hard and lowering her eyes to the stone — which was tipped over on its side. She let out a heavy exhale as she read his name aloud. "Daniel Colter."

She pressed a hand to the top of her belly and stepped forward, a smile replacing the tight, nervous frown she'd held until then. "It's tipped," she whispered, relief visible in her face. "He's not…here…" she hummed, and her eyes were filling with tears.

It was a bittersweet revelation — because of course she wished him well. She wouldn't have wanted him here, stuck in the middle, unable to move on, another soul suffering at her hand. But she wanted to see his face one more time. She wanted to show him who she had become, the woman she'd grown to be. She smiled sadly, her head rolling to the side, unable to help but imagine that in another lifetime, they would have lived happily ever after. That they would have shared their days far away from castles and magic and mothers. That they would have had a family — children running happily up and down the hillside, where she'd watch from the doorway of their humble home. Another lifetime indeed.

"He's moved on," Snow promised softly, stepping in to lay a hand against Regina's back, slowly leaning in to rest her head against her shoulder. "He's happy," she added, that truth bringing comfort to them both — because Snow knew that she carried this burden, too.

Snow gave Regina's frame a gentle squeeze, and pulled back, looking into her eyes with love. She said nothing, but nodded, and walked ahead a few paces — enough to be out of ear shot, giving Regina time alone.

"Daniel," Regina breathed out softly, a sad smile on her lips. "I'm so glad you're somewhere better. But…I'm also sorry I missed the chance to see you." Fighting her body's reluctance, Regina knelt down with some struggle, reaching forward to lay her hand against the face of the stone.

"You were my first love, Daniel," she hummed. "And you will always live in my heart."

She drew in a shaky breath and let a few tears escape as she exhaled, her smile brightening. "I found happiness again," she promised him. "And I met someone. His name is Robin. And he reminds me of you, sometimes," she hummed, thinking of the first time he'd made her feel safe again — as Daniel once had. "And…we're going to have a baby," she added, this admission bringing more tears to the surface — because it was more complicated than that, but this monologue was just that — it was more for herself, for her own healing, than to explain anything to a man who couldn't hear her.

"I came because…" Regina hummed, her eyes surveying the landscape around her, truly taking in where she had come, all in an effort to help a friend in need. "Because…I just…needed to know you were okay."

And that felt like enough. The years she'd spend avenging this boy's death were at an end. He was at peace, and so was she.

Letting out another sigh, Regina rolled forward to stand, but realized her agility was somewhat compromised. She tried twice more, each time ending in an unsuccessful grunt.

"Snow?" she called out, and the woman was quickly trotting back to her side.

"Regina, you alright?" she asked, already reaching down to offer her hand, helping to bear her weight and pull her to her feet.

"I'm fine — I'm…that's gotten significantly harder," she sighed, gesturing to the ground.

"I know that feeling," Snow confessed, one arm still around Regina's back.

Arching her back against the dull ache, Regina pressed forward, allowing Snow to keep her hand against her, and she laughed to herself at how much their relationship had changed even in the past year alone. She might even consider her a friend.

"Snow —," Regina began with hesitancy in her tone.

Snow just turned to look in her direction, her eyes smiling, as they always did, ready and waiting and willing to do whatever Regina asked.

"Have you checked the drawers in your hell-hole apartment," Regina asked dryly.

"What?" she asked, Snow's lip curling in confusion.

"My magic still hasn't come back to me. And there's only so much stretch left in these pants," she lamented, hating herself for having to say any of this out loud.

Snow only laughed and nodded her head — another aspect of pregnancy she was able to relate to all too well. But she could feel the shift in Regina's tone, and didn't want to add to her humiliation, however unnecessary it was.

"Well, at home in Storybrooke, I have a whole bin of maternity clothes. So far everything here has been some twisted duplicate of home," she offered, hope in her voice that there might be something available for her.

Regina rolled her eyes. "'Twisted duplicate' is the operative term, there. Who knows what we'll find. Probably a bin full of maternity clothes meant to fit 'My Teen Barbie'," she spat angrily.

And Snow bit the inside of her cheek, only partially successful in hiding her laugh.


	17. Chapter 17

Regina sat on the edge of Snow's bed, her coat pooled around and beneath her where she'd discarded it. She leaned back on one arm, the other allowing her hand to move back and forth in slow, certain patterns over the base of her bulging belly, watching as Snow pulled each dresser drawer open, rifling through the piles of clothes.

The bin which they had hoped would be present in this version of the apartment was, sadly, filled with shoes. That fact was only taken as a partial loss, as Regina was able to find a pair of brown leather boots — with no lifted heel.

"Here!" Snow announced happily, lifting a pair of tan leggings, the interior thighs inlaid with a thicker leather. She turned, triumphantly, holding them up towards Regina, tugging at the waist to make a point.

"What the hell…" Regina asked dryly, her eyes moving over the fabric, certain she'd never seen Snow wearing anything like them before.

"Riding pants!" Snow replied with a smile, tossing them in Regina's direction, but Regina let them land on the bed, not moving to catch them.

"Riding what," Regina asked with a grunt, struggling to pull herself to standing, grabbing hold of the bed post. On her feet, she was already kicking off her boots, then shaking her leg to loosen her own trousers from her body, one at a time. Snow's riding pants were already halfway up to her knees when she finished her thought — "Charming?"

She winced at that, having disgusted herself thoroughly at the thought, but the effort in getting into these pants had been too great, and she would not turn back now.

Snow only laughed and rolled her eyes at Regina's remark, watching in delight as Regina pulled the pants up over her frame, seeing that they fit quite well. "Perfect."

"Would I be pressing my luck in asking for a top," Regina asked, smoothing her hands over the tops of her thighs, around to her backside, peeking over to the corner to look at herself in the mirror.

"That, we can certainly find," Snow promised with a smile, and dove back into the drawers, searching for a top that would suit the heavily pregnant Queen.

* * *

"Significantly better," Regina admitted as she and Snow made their way down the center of town. Her feet felt more sure in the brown leather flats, and she no longer felt the constant threat of suffocation in too-tight clothes.

Donning the tan riding pants, and now one of Snow's blouses, Regina resembled the young girl she had once been, before Cora had put an end to her need for playful adventure. The white top was flowy, but gathered beneath the breast, two loose and tasseled strings hanging from the scooped neckline. The sleeves had been too billowy, and too long, so Regina rolled them to her elbows.

She'd removed some of her darker eye makeup to compensate, and had felt compelled to pull her long hair over the side of her shoulder in a loose tie. The result was a decidedly youthful version of herself — and Snow couldn't help but see the woman who had saved her from a runaway horse all the more clearly.

There was a muffled sound, a strained whine, which distracted them from their current path to Granny's.

"Did you hear that?" Regina asked, turning to follow the sound. "It sounded like a horse.."

" _Here_?" Snow pressed, her brow furrowing.

Rounding the corner, they found a beautiful mare lying on her side, writhing in an effort to stand.

Regina breathed out heavily in sympathy and moved towards the creature.

"What's wrong with it," Snow asked sadly.

"It's hurt. It can't stand…" Regina lamented, reminded of her own precious steed, whom she loved dearly in her younger days.

Feeling a sudden rush of something familiar pass through her, Regina took a breath in, letting the sensation fill her up. Magic.

Lifting her hand, she let the wave pulse through her, leaving through her palm — and the horse whinnied, and stood. It moved slowly towards the dark haired woman, and the two made eye contact, holding each other's gaze. Regina smiled, glad to have been able to help — and glad at the realization that her power had finally retuned to her.

"Regina, your magic… You did it," Snow remarked. And Regina was too happy to make any comment about her stating the obvious.

"I did," she whispered, looking down at her hands in delight. And taking a breath, standing back from Snow, Regina held out her palm, letting it fill with a roaring ball of flame.

"Regina, what are you doing," Snow asked more confused than nervous.

"Just checking," she grinned. "I'm back."

* * *

They'd gotten the message from one of the kinder trapped souls — Emma and Gold had succeeded in rescuing Hook from the bowels of the Underworld. They were to meet at Emma's house to initiate the heart-switch — and then they could all go home.

Robin, perhaps more than anyone else, was thrilled with this news, and could not stop the smile from filling his face as he walked proudly at Regina's side — having whispered a few choice compliments on her new look.

One by one, they marched up the steps and into the familiar foyer of Emma's netherworld home.

"Killian!" Snow cried out happily, relieved to see the pirate, despite the obvious signs of trauma he had suffered.

"Nice job, mom," Henry chirped.

"Oh, look at you," Snow hummed, her face softening from elation to concern.

"I'll be alright," Hook promised with a nod and a sturdy smile.

"How'd you do it," David asked curiously, already dreaming of the moment they would be able to leave this place.

"Gold got us in. He got us help," Emma confessed. And truly, none of it would have happened without him. "He proofed us back here. He even had a boat to get us all back home. …But it's gone now," she added, the last words trailing off sadly.

"What happened," Snow pressed.

"Hades attacked," Hook answered. "We lost the boat. And we lost a friend," he lamented, referring to Milah. He and Emma hadn't been there when it happened, but as far as Gold's account told them, Hades had deliberately pushed her into the River of Lost Souls.

Turning over his shoulder, Hook locked his eyes with Rumplestilskin and, having a moment to process what he'd learned during their journey back, growled angrily. "I hear you took away my sacrifice. Everything I did to save my family all went to give you back your power. I should kill you."

"Acknowledged." Gold replied dryly.

"Okay," Regina breathed out after a long uncomfortable pause settled over the group. "We don't have a way to get out, but we didn't have one before anyway. My magic's working now. So let's do this heart split. That way, when we find an exit, we can actually get through it — quickly."

"Heart split?" Hook asked, turning his gaze back to Emma.

"It's a good plan," she promised. "It'll work. Trust me."

Emma stepped away from Hook and towards Regina, letting out a sigh and clearing her throat and she shook her arms, preparing herself for the tightness in her chest that came with having her heart pulled from it.

Regina nodded, and splayed her fingers once, stretching her digits before pulling them back and thrusting them toward Emma's chest. But the moment her hand made contact, she was pushed back by a burning hot light. Regina yelped and stepped back, shaking her hand in the air to wave off the heat.

"What was that?" Robin asked nervously, stepping behind Regina and placing his hand on her hip, protectively.

"Interesting," was Gold's only remark.

"What the hell…" Regina asked, her hand still trembling from the impact.

"What is this…" Emma whispered, trying not to lose hope — because it seemed that her entire plan was unraveling before her. "Why didn't it work…"

* * *

Together in the graveyard once more, they stood solemnly staring at three tombstones that had not been on the map Cruella had given them. These had appeared seemingly from nowhere. But Hook, at least, knew better.

"Hades told me to pick three names," he explained. "And chisel them onto the headstones. He said whoever I picked would remain in the Underworld — to pay the debt he feels we owe, for allowing three souls to move on from this place. I refused."

"Well it looks like he did the picking himself," Regina replied dryly, staring at her own name, written in stone.

 _Regina Mills. Snow White. Emma Swan._

None of them wanted to think of anything but the greater good — the mission at hand. None of them wanted to think of anything but finding a way around this, of getting everyone home safely. But each of them knew that time was not on their side. And with Regina's name on the headstone, each of them was desperately trying to keep the thoughts at bay — thoughts of Regina having to deliver here, to birth a child who would never take its first breath.

"What does this mean," Emma asked — and Regina was too full of sorrow to even be slightly angry with her stupid question.

"It means we're stuck here, and now we can't use your heart to save Hook," Regina replied solemnly.

"Well," Gold sighed, his tone decidedly different than everyone else's. "I got the pirate out in a day, after — what — six weeks of your trying? But you lots managed to find a whole new way to fail. I'll be in the shop."

* * *

Cruella's car was speeding wildly down the back roads of the Underworld, the forest a blur on either side.

"Will you please slow down," Henry begged from the passenger's seat.

"Darling, you wouldn't be here if you didn't like a little danger," Cruella pointed out. "I mean look at you — sneaking away from your family to bring me back to life," she hummed, pleased with how this was all turning out.

"Such a naughty boy."

"I just want to find the pen and get this over with," he explained. Because finding the pen and freeing Cruella meant she would have to help them. Because finding the pen at all meant there was a chance he could write this story differently — that he could at the very least send Regina home safely.

"Stop! I saw something!" Henry shouted suddenly, pointing into the woods, a glimmer of some otherworldly light guiding him to what he was seeking.

Both got out of the car, traipsing through the woods on their quest, Henry leading the way.

"Well, there's no pen here. Just dirt — and things that smell like dirt," Cruella complained, stumbling over every single twig in her absurdly high heels.

"I swear, I saw it."

"Well then move those little legs of yours and keep looking. GO!" she shooed, stopping her steps and leaving Henry to continue on.

Henry pressed on further — and was rewarded minutes later when he saw the Apprentice, shushing him and turning over his shoulder nervously.

"Quiet — we have little time," he warned.

"I don't understand — what are you doing here?" Henry asked. "You were a devoted apprentice to the Sorcerer your entire life. What unfinished business could you possibly have?"

"You, my boy. I'm here to prevent you from making a terrible mistake. You must not resurrect Cruella."

"So the pen can bring someone back," Henry pressed, pointing out the lie the Apprentice had told him before he died. "You told me it couldn't.

"That was a necessary half-truth," the old man confessed. "Up there, yes. Down here, the rules are a little more…flexible. I saw no reason to tempt you. The dilemma you are currently facing is why."

"I'm not getting the pen for Cruella," Henry insisted angrily. "I'm getting it for me. I just watched my mom become the Dark One. I watched Hook die. And I couldn't do anything."

"You are the Author. As such, you should use the Quill only to record the stories, not create them," the Apprentice reminded him.

"I don't care about the stupid stories anymore," Henry answered angrily. "I'm sick of sitting on the sidelines. I want to be a hero. I want to help my mom, even if it means helping Cruella."

"In the Sorcerer's mansion, lie all his great works of light magic, the Quill included," the Apprentice admitted. "It is protected by a powerful spell, but the Sheriff took the key from me. Acquire that key, and the Quill is yours," he promised.

"Wait, you're helping me?" Henry asked in confusion, the conversation having taken a sudden turn.

"The choice is yours. The only way I can move on — is if you make the right one. I trust you."

And the old man vanished from the forest before Henry's eyes.

* * *

"Will you stop staring at the door," Regina asked with groggy annoyance.

She and Emma had been waiting at Granny's for hours, having sent Snow and Charming to find the key to the Sorcerer's mansion. While they were all grateful that Henry had come to them and explained his plan to help, there was an unease that this — along with everything else they'd tried to do to get home — would end with more obstacles, and less answers.

The sudden return of Killian's deceased brother, Liam, was just another obstacle. And for Regina, a point of suspicion.

"When your parents walk through it, I promise, I'll let you know," she promised, letting out a sigh and turning the mug of hot tea in her hands.

"Maybe this was a bad idea. I should've gone with them."

"Would you relax," Regina sighed. "People are starting to stare at us. Remember what Liam said — we need to act _casual_."

"They're not staring at us, they're staring at _you_ ," Emma chided, her aggravation with the current circumstance translating as annoyance at Regina. "A pregnant woman in hell sticks out like a sore thumb."

But her words cut a little too deeply, and even Emma was wincing at her mistake.

"What do you think of Liam, anyway," Emma asked, sliding onto the stool beside Regina. "You don't think he's a little self-righteous, do you?"

" _Ohh_ …he doesn't like you, does he?" Regina asked, her eyes lighting up then, thrilled to hear fresh gossip, to have a new person to despise — even if it was only on behalf of someone else.

"He doesn't think I'm good enough for Hook," Emma replied.

Regina laughed at that and rolled her eyes. "To be honest, you're _too_ good for Hook."

"He's different with Liam. He thinks he walks on water."

"What's going on?" Regina asked, her tone changing, seeing that this was more than getting under Emma's skin — this wasn't sitting right. And Regina had learned that Emma's instinct was just as good as her own.

"Liam thinks I should let Hook move on."

"Who cares what Liam thinks? What does Hook think?"

"He agrees."

Regina was taken back at that, her brow furrowing as she looked into the blonde's eyes. But then there was a sudden realization behind her eyes, and she let out a breath and shook her head.

"Well, that's because he hasn't forgiven himself," she explained, turning back to look at the mug between her hands.

"How do you know that?" Emma asked, her eyes carefully taking in the older woman.

"Though I hate to admit it," Regina sighed, lifting her eyes to meet Emma's. "We're much alike. And forgiving yourself is the hardest thing to do. You want to help Hook? Help him with _that_."

And before she could say any more, Henry walked in, beaming proudly. "Mom. Mom," he said twice, addressing them both. "Grandma found the key."

* * *

Entering the mansion had been an easy task — and finding the story book containing Hades' tale had been easier, still. But upon opening the book and quickly reading over the words describing Hades' rise and subsequent fall into anger and revenge, they found that the final pages — the pages that would give them some insight into Hades' twisted motives — were ripped out.

Regina was the only one who wasn't terribly surprised. She had done the same to Henry's book to keep her identity a secret from him. Because what mother wants their son to realize that she is an Evil Queen, responsible for countless deaths, but also the separation of a family — his family.

When Emma had pressed Liam, asking if he had seen any evidence that it had been tampered with — because he was the one who found it, after all (a fact which only furthered Regina's suspicions) — he had answered with a definite and decidedly firm "no". Pushing Emma and Regina further in their dislike of Killian's brother, Liam had then insisted that they may have fallen out, and that he would search the house from top to bottom in an effort to find what they were looking for.

"I see what you mean about self-righteous," she had whispered to Emma, the two watching him go, off on his heroic quest.

But when Emma pressed Hook, explaining that she felt he was hiding something, the rift between the two only grew wider — Hook angry with Emma for even suggesting that there may be more to his motives than met the eye.

But despite the upset in their search, it was not all in vain. Henry had secretly found the Quill and ink. And that was a start.

* * *

"Liam ripped out every page that had anything to do with Hades."

The discovery came when Emma caught him tossing the torn pages down into a well deep in the forest of the Underworld. The pages were lost to them — another set back in their plan — but their only consolation was in the fact that they were able to help Liam, and his ship's crew, move on after he confessed to what he had done, and remedied all the existing bad blood between brothers.

"On behalf of my brother, I'm sorry," Hook said sadly, watching the faces of Emma and Snow droop in defeat.

"Maybe there's something else in here that can help us," Emma suggested, trying to remain hopeful. "Our Storybrooke had all kinds of secrets in it."

"Well, Henry's kind of the expert on Storybooks.." David suggested. "Where is he?"

"He's upstairs, going full emo teenager," Emma answered dryly.

"And doesn't want to talk to anyone right now," Regina sighed, plopping herself down into her favored arm chair, wincing when she made impact.

"Well…maybe he just..doesn't want to talk to his _mothers_ ," David suggested, his eyes lifting to the loft.

Climbing the stairs, David offered a smile, despite the look of utter dejection on Henry's face.

"Hey there. What's my favorite grandson up to?" David asked a little too cheerfully.

"Nothing. Just thinking."

"Mind if I think with you?

And he crossed the small lofted room and sat on the bed beside Henry.

"So…what are we thinking about?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Henry replied.

"Okay. Let's talk about me," David offered. "I had a…pretty bad day today. I learned that my twin brother resented me his whole life."

"I thought he grew up a prince."

"Guess he wanted something else. What I had — a loving mother."

Henry's eyes went sad, but he steeled himself with a sigh.

"Please don't make this a lesson," he begged.

"Too late," David offered, hiding a smile.

"See…some people would give anything to have a family like yours, Henry. Because, whatever's going on with you, you know you always have someone you can talk to. Or if you just want to stay up here and be a teenager, that's…okay, too."

And David stood up to go. But something was flashing in Henry's mind, then. And he looked up.

"Wait. I need to show you something," he explained.

* * *

"The Author's pen?" Regina asked in awe, pushing herself up to her feet when Henry had come downstairs to reveal what he'd found at the mansion.

"I thought you'd destroyed it," she added, stepping in to examine it closer where it hung by magic in the air.

"I did," Henry promised. "But that just sent it _here_.. The Apprentice told me where it was. I thought if I used its power, I could be a hero."

"Henry, what made you think you needed to do this?" Regina asked sadly, reaching forward to touch his arm lovingly.

"At first, it was Cruella. She wanted me to use it to bring her back to life…"

"Why would you help her?" Emma interrupted questioningly.

"Because I wanted to help you," he explained. "She said you have all this guilt about killing her, and that's when I realized — I have all this power, and I ignore it."

The only other time he'd stopped ignoring it was when he'd convinced Emma to help him give Regina the child she'd always wanted — that she deserved more than Zelena. He'd hoped that that would change, that he'd be able to continue doing more with the power he had been given.

"I just live in everyone's shadow," he lamented. "I want to be the hero instead of the one the heroes rescue."

"I understand that," Emma promised, showing some empathy. "But that's not the way to do it."

"I know and that's why I'm telling you now," he insisted, the whining in his voice a reminder of his age — because it was easy to forget with how much he'd seen and been a part of.

"I finally understand what the Apprentice meant," he decided, a smile returning to his face. "I'm going to write the stories as they are, and I'll start with Hades. I'm gonna use the pen the correct way — to recreate his story."

"Hades went through a lot of trouble to keep us from learning his story," Snow added, a knowing smile on her lips.

"Which means we're on to something," Regina sighed, shifting her weight from one hip to the other.

"Question is — what is Hades trying to hide from us," Robin asked, taking note of the constant shifting of Regina's body, the impending birth of his child ever present in his mind.

* * *

Down in the lowest pit of hell, Hades stood smiling over a misting mound of rock and magic, pushing his hand down into the fog. He lifted his hand back out, holding the several pages of his Storybook, which he had insisted Liam destroy.

Shuffling through the text and drawn images depicting his life's tale, Hades grinned and sighed when he came to the image of himself with his first and truest love.

" _Zelena_ …" he sighed softly, bringing the image closer. "Our secret remains safe," he hummed, a promise made to his beloved.


	18. Chapter 18

"You'd think a desperate man would work a little faster," Hades grumbled, watching as Rumplestilskin sat at his spinning wheel.

The deal they had struck had been made in desperation — on both sides. Hades, his love for Zelena a re-fed flame, was hurrying to create a portal that would allow him to cross into Storybrooke to take back his beloved and live happily ever after, ruling over the Underworld together.

Rumple, for his part, was simply acting in the hopes that Hades would not harm his wife — or the unborn child he had only recently discovered she carried.

"Magic cannot be rushed," Rumple answered steadily, his eyes not moving away from his work. "Creating a portal is no simple task."

"Yes, yes. I know," Hades relented with annoyance. "But we don't have a dark curse or a magic bean or silver slippers — we have something better. Your Dark One tainted blood. It got you down here. It can reopen the portal."

"Why do you even need a portal," Rumple asked suspiciously. "You can come and go as you please."

"But I can't bring anyone back — alive," he explained. "By combining our powers, that can change," he offered, turning to slump down in his throne. "And I don't care how painful it is for you."

With the flick of his wrist, he let loose the contract Gold had signed, and smiled.

"So, if you want me to tear up this contract, so your child-to-be is your child-to-be, you won't care about the pain, either," Hades deduced with a grin.

And Rumple relented. "You must tell me where you want this portal directed.."

"Oh. Why, _Storybrooke_ , of course," he chuckled.

* * *

Gold's shop had been quiet for weeks — ever since the core of the town had left for the Underworld. While it was lonely, and somewhat eerily quiet without the constant threat of villains and monsters out to take revenge on the residents, Belle was taking the opportunity to organize the likely dangerous trinkets. Dusting off old dishes and goblets, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles on old dolls' clothes, she was lost in her thoughts — until a sudden gust of air had her spinning on her heel, gasping at the presence of the redheaded witch.

"Zelena," she breathed out, backing away from her carefully. "Regina sent you to Oz — how..how.." she began, but Zelena cut her off with a wicked laugh.

"All you need to know is that my sister can't keep me down. So, if you wish to remain alive…step aside," she gritted, pushing Belle away so she could retrieve a small trinket that had once belonged to her — something that would allow her to begin casting a spell to retrieve her child from her sister.

* * *

"Zelena's baby…" Rumple said quizzically, his eyes narrowed as he continued spinning. "What do you want with her child?"

"Well, you of all people should know the value of keeping your reasons your own. I don't have to tell you anything," he cackled.

"And yet you keep doing so," Rumple chided, having been made to hear the Hell-god's tale of woe for the last hour while he worked. "Some might call that the mark of an insecure man."

"We're done here," Hades growled. "Get me Zelena's baby," he demanded, and he rose from his seat, crossing the cavernous room to put himself at Gold's side.

"I'll rip up the contract, and you can tell Belle she's pregnant without also having to tell her she owes her baby to me. I hear new expectant mothers hate that…" he laughed. "Almost as much as they hate hearing their husbands are still the Dark One."

"Now. Do it," Hades growled, forcing Gold's hand to open the portal, to bring Zelena in — so together, they could take back the child that was rightfully hers.

* * *

"Zelena, no," Belle begged. "You don't want to hurt your baby," she reminded her nervously.

"No," she agreed, snarling with her reply. "But I don't mind hurting you."

"If you take it now, you could hurt them both. You could kill the baby _and_ Regina," Belle begged. "It can't live down there," she urged.

Then, the floor was shaking violently, glass shattering around them, all of Gold's trinkets crashing to the floor.

"STOP IT! STOP, YOU'RE ENDANGERING EVERYONE!" Belle screamed, grabbing hold of the counter as the tremors grew more and more violent, the entire town shaking around them.

"It's not me that's doing it!" Zelena shouted back — and there was fear in her eyes, too.

In an instant, the floor was opening, red hot magic burning up through the floor, the vortex swirling with power, pulling everything around it in. Zelena's feet faltered, teetering back and falling into the center — but not before pulling Belle in with her.

* * *

The portal in the center of Hades' throne room closed — but no one came through. The two men stared blankly, trying to understand what had happened, what had gone wrong.

"Okay….where is she," he asked, only half angrily — because it should have worked, and he was left more confused than ever.

* * *

"What happened," Belle asked groggily, standing up and dusting herself off. "How'd we get out here," she asked, looking around to get her bearings. It looked like Storybrooke — but darker, angrier.

"UGH my MAGIC," Zelena gritted, her hands empty where she was trying to conjure the trinket she'd hoped made it through the portal.

"Zelena, what did you do to us?"

"I didn't do anything! This wasn't me!" she spat angrily.

And Belle believed her. She could see it in her eyes.

"Okay, then if it wasn't you then who was it — and where are we?" Belle asked, this time looking up. "And why is the sky red…"

"We're in the Underworld…" Zelena realized.

What elation she might have felt at being close to her sister now, the opportunity to take back her child at her fingertips, was tempered by the fact that she had no working magic — and that delivering the child otherwise would result in its immediate death.

"Okay…then…then Rumple must need my help, that's why we're here," Belle concluded with a nod, turning to go off in search of him.

But Zelena didn't move.

"Hades," she sighed softly. "We're here because of me… My baby…" Zelena lamented.

"What?" Belle asked, not understanding. "Hades wants your baby, too?" she continued, her brow furrowing.

"Nothing good ever comes from you," the young girl spat angrily, stomping in the opposite direction, leaving Zelena to fend for herself.

Zelena stood, surrounded by the remnants of the pieces that had fallen through the portal with them, her eyes scouring each item, desperate to find what she had been looking for — but she gave up with a shaky sob, realizing that none of it mattered now. She had no magic. And Hades was after her child. And she was certain, after how their story had ended, that he intended her harm.

* * *

Sitting at the counter at Granny's, Snow and David were just settling in, taking off their coats, and grabbing for a menu when the Blind Witch set down two plates in front of them.

"We…haven't ordered yet," Snow protested, her eyes narrowed in confusion.

"One dry wheat toast, one oatmeal. I know the orders of all my regulars," the witch replied happily. "I'll get your cocoa."

There was a pause, then, as the witch turned and stepped toward the back, hastily preparing the rest of their order — and Snow felt sick to her stomach, the look on her face giving her away completely.

"What," David asked, already munching on a slice of toast.

"David, we're _regulars_ ," Snow whispered, as if the revelation were just now coming upon her.

"We were only supposed to be here for a day, and now we're regulars at the diner in hell."

David let out a sigh and turned to his wife sadly. "You're thinking about Neal," he offered — and in truth, he had been thinking a lot about him, too.

"I wish we could just talk to him… just let him hear our voices, so he knows we haven't forgotten about him…" she lamented.

But at least he was safe.

"And Regina," she added, slumping forward slightly, because that was the true source of her guilt. "We should never have let her come."

The Blind Witch returned with the cocoa in time to hear enough of their conversation to offer some comfort.

"Oh. You can do that," she said with a smile. "It's a simple Level One Haunting. Lots of people do it here until they lose interest in life…and people…and joy," she explained with a somewhat dejected smile replacing her once chipper one.

"I know where a booth is," she hummed.

And that was enough to solve one of their problems.

* * *

In the Charming's apartment, the scene which had only just taken place of Snow and David finding a way to talk to their son had just appeared in Henry's storybook, his Author power delivering the play by play. And while Emma and Regina tried to be encouraging, Henry knew this wasn't helpful, and stormed back up to the loft in the hopes that another story — something helpful this time — would appear on the page.

"We officially have a teenager on our hands," Emma sighed.

There was a knock at the door.

"And…a visitor…at our Underworld apartment…" Regina added, her brow furrowed, hand ready to conjure a fireball should it be anyone who wished them harm.

Emma crossed the room and went to the door, turning the knob and pulling —

"Zelena," Regina breathed out heavily, stumbling back against Robin who held her steady and then stepped in front of her, placing himself between the two women.

Regina swallowed and kept half of herself hidden behind Robin — she wasn't usually one to cower, but she had a child to protect.

"So," the former Queen whispered, steadying her voice. "Someone finally did you in."

"Sorry to disappoint, but I'm very much alive," Zelena grumbled angrily.

"How did you get here," Robin asked, his tone cold and steely, his hand held out to the side, against Regina's belly, holding a protective stance.

"Through a portal," she explained. "And I didn't come alone."

The room was tense, but it was becoming quite clear that she wasn't here to fight. Something more had happened.

"Who else is here," Regina asked nervously.

"Belle. She ran off to find Rumple. Regina — I think Hades is after my baby," she confessed — and those words sucked the very air out of the room. "You're in danger."

* * *

After gathering their thoughts, Robin was hurriedly slinging his quiver over his chest, his bow in hand, suiting up for whatever horrors awaited them this time.

"Where are you going," Zelena asked, her eyes narrowed.

"To stop them," Robin answered, as if this was quite obvious.

"What about a tracking spell," Zelena offered, her eyes moving to her sister.

"We don't have anything of Hades'," Regina reminded her, one hand settling on the base of her belly.

"I don't need magic. I can find them," Robin insisted. "I lived for years in the forest, I can track anyone."

Regina said nothing — but internally she knew this was a failing mission. This was Hades' domain, and while she found his gusto to be valiant and heartwarming, she was not prepared to say goodbye to another love.

"Robin," Regina begged, tugging at his arm. "This isn't the way," she cooed.

"What happens if you find Hades — he will destroy you. He would obliterate you in a second. And then what. Then all of this is for nothing. I won't lose you like this," she demanded.

"So what do you suggest. Because I won't just sit here and wait for him to come after you," Robin answered more angrily than he had intended — but his anger was not directed at Regina. It was at Hades. And Gold. And Zelena. And this tangled mess that left him feeling like things were actually simpler in the Enchanted Forest.

"I have my magic back. We hide," she said softly.

* * *

Robin, Regina and Zelena walked at a relatively slow pace through the woods, in search of the Queen's Underworld Vault. They kept their steps at a pace which Regina set, and Robin pretended not to notice that she grew slower with each passing day.

"You know, I used to be just like you, Zelena," Regina hummed, letting out a sigh to mask the deep breaths she felt she needed to take with the exertion necessary to get from point A to point B.

"Oh, please, don't flatter yourself," Zelena balked in disgust.

"When I was the Evil Queen I spent every day not giving a damn about anyone. And in return, no one cared about me. I thought all I needed was my vengeance to keep me warm at night," she hummed, her steps slowing until she stopped to face her sister.

"But then something happened. My enemies…became my family. And that's when I finally felt happy. That is why I'm here. They need my help and when family needs help, you step up."

"In case you've forgotten, there is someone I love who needs my help — my daughter," Zelena growled angrily, Regina's speech giving her none of the intended peace. "So if we could get on with this, get you hidden until we can get Hades off our tails and back home, that would be just brilliant."

* * *

Robin descended first, at his own insistence. Because as dangerous as the contents of Regina's Vault could be at home, he had no idea what they would be walking into here. Holding up a torch, he took each step with caution, bracing himself for hell beasts — or Hades himself.

"It's clear," he promised, calling over his shoulder as he set the torch in its respective hook on the wall. Turning on his heel, he rushed midway up the steps to take Regina's hand, helping her down slowly. When she was safely on her feet, he turned to offer his hand to Zelena — which she rejected with an annoyed hiss, her eyes rolling upwards.

Regina looked around for somewhere to sit, but quickly realized her vault was never a place to sit around and chat. There were plenty of trunks and spell books and gowns covered in hellish cobwebs, though — in case she had need for that.

"I need to sit," she admitted quietly, her eyes meeting with Robin's as he quickly responded by clearing off a flat-topped trunk and pushing it up against a wall. Looking around, he lifted up a pair of heavy velvet drapes off of the floor in front of a shattered version of her mirror, dusted them off quickly and folded them, laying them over the top of the trunk before offering his hand as she lowered herself down.

"You alright?" he asked softly, gifted with a gentle smile and short nod of her head.

Zelena may not have been invited into their quiet conversation, but the vault echoed, and she was rolling her eyes and balking at the two lovers openly.

"It will take you _ages_ to get rid of all that baby weight," Zelena quipped, crossing her arms and cocking her head to the side as she took inventory of her younger sister. "God, those hips. Of course, I suppose…I was _blessed_ with the slimmer of our mother's gene pool," she hummed with a smile, pressing her hands in against her slender frame.

"You're _welcome_ , for providing a healthy home for your baby," Regina grumbled back with annoyance.

"So what is the plan, here, anyway?" Zelena asked with annoyance written over her face, already bored with the lack of thought put into it. "Just going to sit here — what, until Hades finds you or until you pop?" she pressed, finding their idleness offensive.

"Emma and the Charmings are working on a plan," Regina promised. "We just have to sit tight until we're out of eminent danger," she added with a sigh, leaning back on her arm and moving her hips slightly — a recent habit of hers, and one that was steadily becoming more necessary the more the baby grew.

Looking down at her fingertips, suddenly distracted by the distinct feeling of static electricity coursing through her digits, Zelena smiled to herself. It wasn't enough magic to take her baby back now, but it was enough to get her out of there, and back on Hades' trail. At least then she would have a chance at changing his mind, stopping his quest to use her child in his twisted spell.

"Enough of this," she whispered, her smile brimming. "I'll take care of it myself. And get my baby back," she said a bit louder, determination in her wild eyes. And with the flip of her hand, her magic took her out of the vault and away from the couple — leaving them bewildered, and more worried than they had been perhaps ever before.

* * *

Word reached them later in the form of Emma, slipping down the last step into the vault with a clumsy crash, startling Regina and Robin beyond comprehension.

"Zelena found us," she admitted, her eyes narrowing as she took in the sight of Regina, sitting on the edge of a trunk, a make shift cushion beneath her. She was slumped forward slightly, draped over a taller chest, her head resting in the crook of her elbow. Robin stood behind her, his hand balled into a fist, kneading against her lower back.

"Woah. Regina. You alright?" she asked nervously, put instantly on edge.

"Yeah," Regina promised with a grunt, sucking in a breath of air as she slowly pushed herself to sit upright, her hands moving to sweep over and cradle the heavy globe of her womb. "My back is killing me," she admitted. "Unfortunately, several hours perched on top of an iron chest will do that to you."

Emma breathed out a quiet sigh of relief, swallowing against her suddenly dry throat. "Okay," she accepted with a nod, trying to push away thoughts of early labor — it was still early, wasn't it? Emma wondered to herself, trying to count back and think how long they'd actually been down here in the Underworld.

"Regina, how far al—" she began, but Regina didn't let her finish.

"Thirty six weeks yesterday. And _no_ , I'm not going into labor, and _no_ , I have no intention of doing so until we're back in Storybrooke," Regina answered with a dry throat, uninterested in having this conversation — because if she let herself think that there was reason to be concerned, it would undoubtedly send her over the edge.

"Okay," Emma said defensively, holding her hands up in surrender. "I won't ask again. But how about we trade an iron chest for a nice comfy bed…" she offered. "It's clear to come back to the apartment," she explained with a smile. "Zelena seems to be working on our side. She's keeping Hades distracted."

* * *

"What if Zelena changes her mind," Robin asked, pacing nervously in front of the table. Seated there were Belle, Hook and the Charmings. Emma was upstairs in the loft, helping Regina get comfortable — as much as she could.

"I hate to be the one to offer optimism, but — it sounded like she was sincere," Hook promised gently, having been present when she suggested her plan to their group.

"She was," Belle promised. "But that doesn't mean what she knows can't come back to bite us.."

"Which is why I think I should take her back to the Vault," Robin pressed, his eyes glancing upward to where Regina lay. "I just think it's safer there…"

"I don't know about anyone else, but I am really ready to get back home — to get everyone back home," Snow sighed. "No more waiting for Zelena. We can save ourselves. We're going to take down Hades, and we're going to do it now."

* * *

In the center of the town, Hades walked alone, his figure appearing through the thick fog that settled each night. He could see a figure moving towards him, and he narrowed his eyes to bring it into better focus.

"Hello, Hades," Zelena's voice crooned, sauntering towards the god without fear. And what was there to fear, really, because he had loved her deeply once. And this spell he was hoping to cast using her child was all in an effort to win her back. With this in mind, Zelena knew that the best chance they had in keeping her daughter safe was to fall in love with him once again — and she was sure he would believe her.

"Zelena," he breathed out, stepping forward when the fog cleared enough to see her beautiful face. "You know I was looking for you…"

"You were looking for my baby," she corrected him, unable to keep the anger from bubbling at the surface. "I was just a happy accident."

"Yes. Yes, you were," he chuckled, his lips pulling into a genuine smile. "When I heard you fell through my little portal — I really was looking for you," he promised.

"I know. I thought I'd make it easy. I know that you want my child for your time-travel spell. If you touch her — I will demolish you," she gritted, unleashing her threats with practiced ease.

"There's no need for that," Hades promised, looking into Zelena's eyes with sadness. "I wouldn't hurt you. I never would have hurt you. That's the thing about true love…"

Zelena's guard was lowering now, her hand falling at her side, her features softening — because she could see in his eyes that what he said was true.

"It endures, it can't be broken."

"What? So…sending Rumplestilskin on his quest to…to get my daughter… had nothing to do with revenge? With…trying to go back and win me this time?"

"Zelena," he breathed out sadly. "I was trying to rescue her from those miserable heroes. I was trying to get her back for you…"

"Despite everything I've done, you've loved me all this time?" she asked, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Look around you," he laughed. "I mean…aren't you curious why this — this place looks exactly like Storybrooke? I did it for you! I saw how much you wanted to cast the Dark Curse, to get everything your sister had."

"You made me my very own Storybrooke," Zelena realized, and the sentiment, however twisted, was not lost on her.

"I gave you what you wanted. What she had. It's not…perfect. The Underworld is a place of…well, destruction," he confessed. "Despite my best intentions, things don't grow here. They…decay. But it's our decay," he whispered tenderly.

"Zelena. Wouldn't it be nice to not be alone anymore? After all these years, I still choose you… What better revenge is there than having it all?" he asked.

"But I had it all right there," she whispered. "But then I left them because I thought that you wanted to hurt my child…I had to stop you…"

"Well, then, we'll just have to go back and get her. Won't we?"

Zelena felt herself falter for just a moment, but then she was backing away from him once again, her head shaking.

"No. No. I want to trust you, I do…"

"But you still can't. I understand," he promised.

"I'm sorry. It's too much. I will get my daughter back… But I'll do it on my own," she whispered, her tears brimming in her eyes as she turned to leave him.

And he let her take several steps before stopping her.

"April fifteenth."

"What?" Zelena asked, her eyes narrowed as she turned to face him once more.

"Your birthday. Just thought you might want to know."

Memories of a conversation they'd had years ago, of Zelena confessing she had never known her real birthday because her mother had abandoned her without any information passed along. For years, she celebrated the day she was found by the parents who'd raised her — and the sad irony had never been lost to her. Abandonment day, she'd used to call it. And she lamented this simple thing that everyone knew about themselves — everyone but her.

"How do you know that," she asked, stepping forward.

"Tortured it out of a miller's daughter," he said with a smile — and it was meant to be endearing and playful.

"Don't worry," he promised happily. "I took care of her, too. For you. I know you don't need me. You don't need anyone. But if you change your mind, and decide you want me — I'll be waiting for you. At home. Just like I always have."

And with that, Hades disappeared from the street, leaving Zelena alone — again.


	19. Chapter 19

For the past three nights, Emma had been having nightmares — she'd dreamed that she'd found a way to use her magic to take the names off of the tombstones, leaving everyone free to leave the Underworld unscathed. But in each recurrence of the dream, as soon as she began to wield her magic, a storm would roll in, a beast would attack, and both Hook and her mother would be killed.  
Each night, Emma would wake in a cold sweat, frantically trying to remember the magic, and forget the aftermath.

With time ticking away, there was little else to do but press onward — to search for anything at all that could at the very least get Regina's name removed.

It was decided — by Regina — that she would do her part, and talk with her sister to see if she could sniff out any weakness in Hades, hoping to find leverage to use against him so that they could all go home.

Inviting her to tea at Granny's, Regina tried not to take any comfort in Zelena's obvious upset. The red-haired woman stared blankly out of the window, hardly noticing when Regina set a mug of tea down before her.

Sliding into the booth quite ungracefully beneath the weight of her middle, Regina grunted softly as she adjusted herself, shifting and wriggling in place until she found a somewhat comfortable position.

"How's… how are you," Zelena asked softly, her eyes lifting to meet Regina's. "How's my daughter."

"Safe," Regina promised, offering a tender smile. "Hades won't ever get to her."

"He'll suss it out eventually," Zelena replied sadly. "When he wants something, he never gives up."

"…And you know this, how?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Zelena admitted, clearing her throat, shifting in her own seat now.

"Zelena…for once in our lives, maybe we can just…try…acting like sisters," Regina hummed, seeing sadness in Zelena — sadness that fueled darkness — something she had plenty of experience with.

"What happened between you and Hades," she asked, pressing just a bit more.

There was a long pause as Zelena seemed to shrink in her place. Her eyes darted nervously to the side before drawing in a long breath and letting it out in a reluctant sigh. "He fell in love with me."

"…Oh.." Regina hummed, trying to hide the surprise in her face. She was failing miserably. This was not what she had expected.

"I know. Totally ridiculous," Zelena admitted. "The idea that…anyone could love me," she laughed, but her laugh was low and sad.

Regina watched as emotions played over her sister's features, blue eyes filling with tears. She leaned in and resisted the urge to take Zelena's hand tenderly. "Do you love him?" When no answer came, Regina let out a sigh and leaned back, shaking her head. Her approach was all wrong — this was her sister, in fact, and she was clearly in distress.

"I can imagine how hard this is for you…but you know Hades. He's the one who's keeping us all down here. So I need to know what his weakness is," Regina said softly, and she hated herself for having to ask this now. Because her feelings for her sister were beginning to change.

Zelena laughed, shaking her head. "So this little visit wasn't just sisterly concern. It was about Hades."

"No, it was both," Regina insisted.

"Well, I'm sorry I don't have more to offer," Zelena said quietly, lifting the mug of tea to her lips and sipping slowly. "But…as far as I know, I'm his only weakness…"

* * *

Making her way down to her vault, Regina was careful on each step, admitting to herself that this was infinitely easier with Robin's help. Slowly, she descended, finding the last step with a sigh, only to be greeted by a knife to her belly. She gasped loudly and jolted back, catching herself against the stone wall — then, grunting in aggravation when she saw who it was.

"Sorry, love," Hook said softly, slowly lowering the blade.

"I'm glad your reflexes are better than your sense of style," she quipped, stepping down and onto the solid ground of the vault. Narrowing her eyes, she was surprised to see Emma and Snow there as well.

"This has turned into quite a day…" she breathed out. "Why are you all in my vault?"

"Short version," Snow offered with a shrug. "Thing with fangs trying to kill us."

"And you're…hiding instead of fighting?" she asked, knowing this was entirely out of character — at least for Emma and Snow.

"I saw the same monster in my dream," Emma explained. "And in the end..it…."

"It killed me," Snow answered for her daughter.

"I thought it was a message or some…vision of the future.." Emma tried to explain.

"Well you dreamt it. It's not like it will happen," Regina offered with furrowed brow. "Maybe this dream isn't just about the monster. It's about you…working out some issues," she suggested carefully.

Emma stood back and puffed out her chest, leaning casually against a chest of drawers. "I don't have any issues," she challenged in reply.

Then silence.

"Much…as it pains me, I have to agree with Regina. What's going on?" Hook asked, crossing the space to be at her side.

Confronted by her lover, Emma stammered, feeling her words rising to the surface, admissions ready to flow. "Maybe I….feel like I failed everyone," she said softly.

"Failed?" Hook asked. "You saved me."

"We are still trapped in the Underworld," Emma corrected him, her tone changing to anger — anger with herself.

"The hell was I thinking bringing everyone down here? Bringing Henry down here — and Regina," she added, gesturing to the pregnant woman.

"This is a terrible plan. I should have done this alone. And now I'm always frightened — I'm frightened someone will die. And it will be my fault. And I'll never forgive myself," she explained, forcing her eyes forward, unable to bear looking in Regina's direction.

"Emma. You did not force any of us down here. We all wanted to come with you. We knew it would be hard, these things always are — but some things are worth it. Love is worth it," Snow insisted.

"Now, if you want to get home, let's do what works. Let's face this monster together."

* * *

Zelena sat in the diner alone, biding her time, thinking of the hundreds of possibilities each of her choices could result in. But just as she was about to stand to go, her mind as made up as she could possibly hope for, a waitress walked by, placing and covered silver platter down in front of her.

"I didn't order anything," Zelena snapped, but the waitress paid little attention, and was already moving on to her next task.

With a sigh, Zelena removed the cover to reveal a single flower — brown edges and wilting petals, tied with a ribbon, her name written in familiar hand. She smiled, and looked out the window, a new perspective in her heart. Hades did love her, it seemed.

* * *

In the woods, Snow led the small group, her arrow drawn. Following the tracks left behind by the beast, she turned over her shoulder with a smile, noticing a tell-tale sign.

"It's close," she said happily.

"There!" Regina pointed out, already opening her palm to throw her magic, Emma stepping quickly in front of her, letting her own magic join Regina's.

"Nice shot," Hook said with a grin as they watched the beast tumble down behind a fallen tree.

"Wait! Everyone stay back — It could still be alive," Emma shouted, racing ahead to put herself between her family and the beast.

"Emma stop, don't kill it—" Snow called after her, running up behind.

But as they all filed in closer, they realized they were familiar with this particular beast.

"I think your dream was a vision," Snow hummed. "But it wasn't about saving me…" she said with a smile, reaching down to grab the red cloak from the ground, lifting it and covering the large animal. And the moment the cloak touched over the creature, it was no longer a creature at all — but Red.

* * *

"The Underworld?" Red asked, sitting up slowly as she woke surrounded by friends in an apartment that was only slightly off from the version she knew in Storybrooke. "I don't understand. I used a tracking spell so the cyclone would bring me to Zelena," she explained.

"Ruby — she's down here, too," Emma replied.

"Wait, love, you came down here, looking for Zelena?" Hook asked.

"Why am I not surprised. What did my sister do now," Regina asked with the roll of her eyes.

The number of people hunting for the fiery haired witch was growing every day.

"It's my friend, Dorothy. Zelena wanted her magic slippers so that she could get back to her baby," Red shook her head, having never really understood fully the scenario around her — only that it resulted in a missing friend.

"Time to talk to Zelena," Emma groaned, moving away from the bed.

"I'm coming," Regina insisted, knowing that her presence would at the very least be enticing enough to keep her sister from running off without explanation.

* * *

At the farmhouse, Zelena stood out front, the stolen slippers on her feet. "I'll come back for you when the time's right," Zelena hummed to herself, her words meant for the unborn child she loved. "But for now, you're with the people who can give you what you need."

She lifted herself on her toes and clicked her heels together — once, twice. But then something stopped her.

She turned over her shoulder to find her sister, followed closely by Emma, Snow and Red.

"You're not going anywhere, sis," Regina called to her.

"How do you expect me to become mother material if you won't leave me be," Zelena snapped.

"Well, we were planning on it until someone you screwed over literally dropped out of the sky," Regina explained.

And this was all getting incredibly tiresome.

"What did you do to Dorothy," Red asked, her lip quivering in fear.

But she said nothing.

"Zelena…tell us what you did. Fight your instincts and help us," Regina pleaded gently. "It's the only way you'll ever see your little girl again. Trust me"

But Zelena only shook her head.

"No. I'm afraid I can't fix this. Even I can't help Dorothy now," she admitted.

"Why not," Emma asked trepidatiously.

Letting out a sigh, Zelena conjured a mirror in her hand, and held it forward — showing the girl lying still, lifeless.

"You killed her?" Red asked in a whisper, her heart already breaking.

Zelena shrugged and tried — and failed — to hide the smile from her face. "Not quite. I took a page out of your book, Regina."

"Sleeping curse," Regina sighed defeatedly.

"You need to wake her up," Red demanded, practically growling at the witch.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you — I can't," Zelena replied with annoyance. "Dorothy may have the love of the people of OZ, but, there's only one thing that can help her now."

"True Love's Kiss," Regina agreed — and she would know. She had cast one of the first sleeping curses, guided by Maleficent.

* * *

"Simple trade, really. The slippers for my daughter," Zelena demanded, holding court inside the farmhouse now.

"Really," Regina chided. "You really think you're in a position to bargain for your own child? You trapped Dorothy in an unbreakable curse."

"I'm sorry if I'm good at what I do," Zelena said with a smile, quite unapologetically.

"STOP hiding behind all that bluster," Regina gritted, growing angrier by the second. "You're not proud, you're caught."

Taking a breath, Regina moved to sit in the chair opposite her sister, the slippers on the table between them.

"Look. I get it. You did a terrible thing. But just because you made one bad move — or thirty — doesn't mean you can't make a good one now," Regina encouraged.

"Zelena," Regina whispered when her sister still had nothing to say for herself. "You can come back from this. Trust me. I know."

Zelena laughed sadly, rolling her eyes to the side — but this time, not in anger. "Think so?" she asked somewhat disbelieving.

"There's only one way to find out," Regina cooed. "If you try."

Zelena hesitated a moment, but reached forward to take the slippers, moving them in front of Regina. "Here," she sighed. "You can keep your pep talks. I have no delusion that anything will change," she sang, crossing the room to pour herself a drink. "Not you. Not me."

" I hope they wake her," she said insincerely, lifting her glass to cheers herself. "And if you need me, I'll be right here," she breathed out, leaning back into her chair.

Regina took the offered shoes and left, rejoining her friends on the porch of the farmhouse.

"These will get you back to OZ," Regina said happily, handing the shoes over to Red.

"How did you get her to hand those over to you," Snow asked with genuine surprise.

"You're not going to believe me, but all I did was ask," Regina laughed.


	20. Chapter 20

Regina had been barred from going off on any missions — the group's or otherwise — after an altercation at the farmhouse. She and her sister had argued over Hades' underlying intentions, and Zelena had let her anger get the best of her. Regina was unharmed, but it had been too close a call for anyone's taste — especially Emma, who was still quite guilt-ridden that they were all still down there.

Where Regina might have fought that verdict even two weeks earlier, she was not in the position to argue — and she certainly didn't have the energy for it, either. Her singular task now was to pour over the spell books from her vault, and to keep Henry company as he allowed his Authorial Powers to manifest. Both options were at least somewhat helpful, Regina told herself, as it seemed their last remaining hope of getting out of the Underworld would have to be via magic.

Sitting at the small table in the Charming's apartment, Regina leaned in, hunched over a large, musty leather book, her eyes narrowed as she scanned the ancient words, hoping to find something — anything — that might be strong enough to open a portal and break down Hades' barriers. As if sheer will were enough to find it, Regina had been at this for days now. Across from her, Henry was seated in a slump, his chin resting in his palm, the pen tapping against his blank storybook, his gaze blank.

Regina breathed in suddenly and Henry's attention was immediately on her, his pen still, his posture erect. She was leaning back, arching strangely and letting her eyes close as she winced, her hand moving to press against the base of her belly.

"Mom?" Henry asked nervously, his stomach turning as he lifted slightly from his seat, realizing they had no plan for this — because this had been too unbearable a thought for anyone to come up with a plan. Regina giving birth down here was not an option. The color was draining from his face as he slowly rose, wondering how to get in touch with Emma — or Snow — or Robin. Anyone.

"It's okay," Regina breathed out, her eyes opening and her muscles slowly releasing their tension. "I'm — I'm okay," she added with a smile, swallowing and nodding her head as she looked into the face of her frightened son.

"She's just…running out of room in there," Regina explained with a soft laugh, her hand now rubbing back and forth over the swell.

Henry was still looking quite pale, still standing, his eyes locked on his mother.

"Henry, I'm fine," Regina cooed, her tone shifting to comfort her son. She reached forward to lay her hand over his, her smile growing.

"This time," he grumbled, pulling his hand back and letting out a sigh. He turned away quickly, but Regina had already seen the tears forming in his eyes, his lips pulling back into a tight frown — something he'd done since he was a baby.

"Henry," Regina hummed, watching him as he moved away from her, watching as he paced — just like his mother, Regina thought, seeing so much of Emma in him.

"We've been here almost two months. And we're no closer to getting home than the day we came down here. This was a mistake. This was all a big mistake…"

Regina was already pushing back from the table, and standing slowly, moving to wrap her arms around her son.

"Henry," she whispered, closing her eyes as she smiled over his shoulder, taking note of how tall he'd grown — because not that long ago, she had to bend her knees to hold him like this — and sooner than she'd like, she'd have to stand on her toes.

"It's not your job to worry about this. You're my son. I'm your mother — I'm supposed to be the one to worry, remember?" she asked, pulling back to look into his eyes with a smile. Her hands held his face tenderly, and she searched his eyes, waiting for him to show any sign of agreement.

"I came down here because I love these people. They're my friends. And my family. And no one else is to blame for my decision but me," she promised.

"When we first arrived here, I justified my choice by saying that I owed Emma. Because she did what I couldn't. She found a way to…give me — give Robin — this baby. But…the more time I spend down here, and the more time I spend with you, and Emma and Snow and….Charming," she said the last name with an eye roll, the smile not leaving her lips. "…The more I realize that I don't need an excuse of owing anyone. I would have come here, regardless. I think…I realized it when I explained it to Zelena. This is family. And when family needs help…"

"You step up," Henry agreed with a smile, finally beginning to relent in his sorrow and regret.

" _You step up_ ," Regina whispered, echoing the sentiment. She let her hands drop away from his face and rest on his shoulders. "And that is something that we'll want to teach your baby sister when she comes," she encouraged.

Henry's eyes flickered.

"When she comes. When we're _home_ ," Regina promised.

* * *

The realization that Cora had not passed on from the Underworld came after Hook and Emma bribed the Blind Witch with a few bottles of 'breath of the living'. Without hesitation, Hook had found her location, and helped her escape her fate of constantly milling flour in the depths of Hades' underworld. They'd hidden her away in Regina's vault, hoping to use her to get to Zelena. But when Emma confessed to Regina that they'd rescued her, it was no surprise to anyone that Regina demanded she see her — and join in on this one last mission.

"I'm so sorry we didn't come for you sooner," Regina hummed, shaking her head. "I didn't — if we had known," she lamented, walking at Cora's side through the passageways of her vault.

"Sweetheart, I can take care of myself," Cora promised, gently guiding her daughter towards the trunk, hoping she would sit and rest.

Regina eyed the iron chest and sighed — she wouldn't make that mistake again.

"I just…wish you weren't still here," Cora sighed, seeing that Regina's belly was quite full, and quite low.

"I told you. I couldn't leave," Regina reminded her. "Not without helping my friends."

Cora nodded with understanding in her eyes.

"But…even if I wanted to leave now, I can't," Regina admitted with regret.

"Why not? What's Hades done?"

"He put my name on a tombstone. Trapping me here. So he can go to Storybrooke without me or anyone else following him up there," Regina explained, shaking her head.

"Impossible. I know the Lord of the Underworld can't leave this world for good," Cora challeneged.

"No…he _can_ ," Regina sighed, remembering all too well what they had learned from the torn out pages from Hades' story they had acquired. "If he restarts his heart with True Love's Kiss."

"Who could possibly love that man?" Cora asked, clearly disgusted.

"Zelena," Regina answered hesitantly — because until now, she realized, she and her mother had never spoken of her. Zelena had found her long after Cora's death.

Cora was clearly taken aback by Regina's knowledge — and candor. But she accepted it quickly, realizing that there was little hope for secrecy while she was not alive to keep it.

"Zelena… She's.. here?" Cora asked hesitantly.

"It seems she and Hades have a past…" Regina offered

"We need to change her mind," Cora insisted, stepping closer to Regina, urgency radiating from her every pore.

"We've tried. She thinks she can change him. Make him a better man."

"You were right to come to me. She's in more danger than you realize. Hades has been down here far too long to be changed by something as simple as….love," Cora sneered.

"How do we stop Hades….from taking the baby… from hurting Zelena," Regina asked, her eyes narrowed, hanging on her mother's every word.

* * *

Alone at the farmhouse, Zelena sat at the table in front of the fire, gently twirling the flower Hades had given her days earlier — only now it was black and stiff and crumbling. Content to remain there in bliss, imagining what it would be like to gain control over Storybrooke and have her child back and lose Regina in the process, she was startled when there was a knock at the door.

Standing with a sigh, half expecting to see her sister waddling through the door, Zelena was visibly shaken when it was not Regina on the other side — but her mother.

"Hello, Zelena," Cora hummed, offering a smile that showed her discomfort.

"Mother…"

"I wasn't sure you'd know who I was," Cora admitted, shrugging gently.

"I don't know what you're doing here…but I don't need anything from you," Zelena snapped, her wounds from being abandoned and named second best to Regina still open and festering.

But as Zelena moved to slam the door closed, hoping to put an end to this visit, Cora lifted her hand and stopped it in its place.

"We both know you've been waiting for this moment your entire life. Let's not pretend otherwise."

Zelena stiffened — because she was right. But after a moment, she relented, letting out a sigh and stepping to the side to let her enter.

"When I heard you were here, I knew I had to come," Cora said gently, lowering herself to sit at the table across from Zelena, though her daughter remained standing, stiff and unrelenting.

"Regina sent you, didn't she," Zelena asked, her anger evident in her eyes. "To try and talk me out of it — to talk me out of staying with Hades."

"You think Regina would ever forget what I did to her father?" Cora laughed — and this was not a lie. "No. And as for stopping you, I'm the last person to do that. Not when it was my doing that put you in this position in the first place."

And that was the most truth Cora had ever spoken. Had she not abandoned Zelena as a child, it might have been her firstborn who cast the dark curse — or perhaps it wouldn't have been cast at all. Perhaps Regina would have been successful in sneaking off into the night with Daniel. Perhaps.

"What is that supposed to mean," Zelena shrugged, uninterested in rehashing the 'what if's'.

"I'm sure your feelings for Hades are real," Cora sighed, letting the conversation turn in response to Zelena's obvious discomfort. "But isn't it obvious? You're still trying to fill the hole in your heart that I created. When I abandoned you."

"I'm not interested in talking about this," Zelena answered, turning to step away from her mother, hiding her face as she added, "I'm over it. I have been for years."

"No you're not. What I did left a wound that's been festering for decades. You want to know if I regret my decision. If, after all these years, I'm sorry I gave you away…"

Zelena stood still, and silent, her eyes filling with tears, forced now to face the question she had been asking herself since before she could remember. "Well. Are you?"

"Of course I'm sorry. I'm _so sorry_ …"

"Then why," Zelena begged, her voice soft and sad.

"I thought it would be the best for you —" but she stopped herself. "—For me. I thought it would be the best for me. And I was wrong. Don't you understand why I can't leave the underworld yet?" Cora asked, stepping in towards her daughter once more.

"It's you. You're my unfinished business. This…this feud between you and Regina. It's my fault. And it has to stop," Cora cooed, reaching forward to bring Zelena into her arms — and Zelena let her.

* * *

Later that day, Zelena, Regina and Cora all three sat down to talk. Cora allowed their stolen memories — of their childhoods, when Cora had brought them together for a few precious days — to be returned. The memories of their time together, and their heartbreaking departure, were enough to begin to close the rift between the siblings.

"It was a time in my life when I thought that love was weakness," Cora explained solemnly, standing between her two daughters. "I was a fool."

Turning, she stepped towards Regina, her eyes soft and her smile growing. "Look at you, Regina," she whispered. "You stayed here to help your father, your family. You're stronger than I ever was. And that's a strength you got from the people you love. Not from me," she admitted gently.

And then Cora was turning to Zelena, smiling brightly, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. "My Zelena," she began. "I meant what I said earlier. I am so sorry. Sorry I never gave you the family you deserved. Or the love. I should have been there for you. Instead of wasting my life destroying people. Maybe now you won't have to make the same mistakes I did," she said hopefully, offering a smile.

"You hurt Regina because you thought that she was the cause of your pain. But you were wrong. It was me. What you did…to Robin…" she said softly, shaking her head. "Let Regina keep that baby safe. Let her carry to term. Let…let her raise your daughter — and as you grow stronger, and as you learn what family truly means…I know that you will be welcomed into that child's life. And you'll be able to teach her so much… So much more than if either of you tried to do it on your own," Cora promised, turning and reaching a hand out to each of her children. "You're stronger, together. And I made you weak by keeping you apart."

"What if it's too late for me," Zelena asked in a broken whisper, her tears flowing freely now.

"If being here has taught me anything, it's that it is never too late — especially for family. You never stop being connected. Right up to the end. And sometimes. Even after."

* * *

"How did this work with your father?" Cora asked, standing just slightly ahead of her daughters, facing out towards the precipice where the flames would decide her fate in moving on from the Underworld. The heat was enough to make her wince — even this far back — and Cora's stomach turned, thinking regretfully about how she'd made her husband go through this with fear in his heart.

"He just…crossed the bridge," Regina replied evenly, trying not to show her fear. Because while her father had undoubtedly deserved to find peace somewhere better than here, she knew all too well that her mother was more complex — had far more weight in her soul, far more to answer for.

"And it…took him. To where be belonged," Regina added softly. "Into the light."

"Will that work for her?" Zelena asked, turning to Regina with desperation in her eyes — because she understood the complexity of it, too.

"Whatever my fate is, I deserve it. I can face it. Knowing I brought the two of you together — that's all the peace I need," Cora said with a smile, turning to face her daughters once more. And in her eyes was something altogether unfamiliar in the older woman — truth.

"Mother," Regina plead softly, suddenly not ready to say goodbye — a second time.

"Just promise me you'll hold onto each other," Cora said with a nod.

Stepping in close to Regina, Cora took her hands into her own and offered a loving smile.

"In Storybrooke…when I died. We never got the chance to say goodbye," Cora whispered. And she smiled sadly, her tears falling to her cheeks, and she wrapped her arms around Regina and held her tightly, savoring the feel of their bodies pressed together — and when was the last time they hugged and meant it fully, no deception between them?

Pulling back to look into her eyes, Cora smiled, her hands moving from Regina's shoulders to the sides of her belly. "You take good care of each other."

Turning to Zelena then, Cora was already trembling, already dreading the words she was about to speak. Because nothing could undo the damage she had caused in her firstborn. Nothing could fully heal the wounds she'd created. She needed more time — but her time was quite spent.

"And we never even got to say 'hello'," Cora lamented, her voice pitching upwards, regret and sorrow spilling out.

She pulled Zelena into her embrace, and held her there a while, hoping that while this would never make up for a lifetime of lost love, it would carry her through this time, and remind her of who she truly was.

"I love you both," Cora whispered, turning back to face the precipice once more. She stepped forward, taking a deep breath — and waited. She braced herself for the chance that she would be pulled down deeper, to serve her eternity in a place worse than this. She recounted the mistakes she'd made in her life, her own voice echoing in her mind — "Love is weakness". She had never been further from the truth.

Behind her were the reminders of what could have been, had she not been so blinded by dark ambition. Her daughters. Her children. That's what she should have focused on. On love. On family. On making the world a better place for them than it had been for her — but by letting them find their own happiness, in finding for themselves what happiness was.

Ahead of her was her future, her fate. And she steadied herself with a deep exhale.

Regina reached over to take Zelena's hand in her own, holding it firmly, watching anxiously as the flames lifted towards their mother.

The heat rose, and Cora recoiled — but the flames pulled back, revealing a bright light ahead. And Cora let out a girlish laugh, turning over her shoulder to her daughter, beaming with pride — because this was a fate she could never have imagined for herself.

The sisters smiled, hands clasped tightly. And they were proud, too.

They watched with joy as Cora walked on — and passed on from the Underworld, leaving them behind in favor of a happier eternity.

"I've waited my whole life to have a mother, and now she's gone," Zelena sobbed quietly.

Regina turned to her, streaky paths where tears had fallen staining her cheeks. "It's okay," she whispered, stepping in, letting her opposite hand cover Zelena's. "It's okay… I think… I think you have another love to find," Regina hummed, her eyes lifting to meet her sisters. Perhaps she had been right about Hades. Perhaps he, too, simply needed love to redeem him.

"What are you saying," Zelena asked softly, shaking her head, her brow furrowed.

"Hades. Go to him," Regina nodded.

"You trust me?" Zelena asked — and she sounded more like the young girl from their memories than a woman, a powerful witch.

"I trust you," Regina assured her with a smile.

"Thank you, Regina…"

And the two leaned in, wrapping their arms tightly around each other, holding each other close. Zelena pulled back first, laughing breathily, her eyes lowering to Regina's form. "She kicked," Zelena said softly, her smile bright.

Regina beamed, nodding her head, her smile only growing. "She knows when family is close by."


	21. Chapter 21

"So, Savior… Do you want to send your family home? Or not."

Hades' plea for help was more of a threat than a genuine choice given, but Emma wasn't about to let this opportunity pass her by. Not with Regina so close — not with so many lives in her hands.

Zelena had been kidnapped by Gold and Pan, holding her hostage until Hades' relented and tore up the contract which promised Gold and Belle's child to the Underworld. These were terms Hades was more than willing to accept, however, he knew Gold to be a cunning man, and so was not willing to take any chances.

Emma had asked several times — and in several ways — trying to find some point of weakness in Hades' promise to deliver her family home safely if she held up her end of the bargain. She found none. And while Regina and Hook had protested, pointing out that making a deal with the Lord of the Underworld was certainly worse than any deal made with the Dark One — the reward was simply too great to leave behind.

Regina's growing belly, and the number of times she'd tried — and failed — to hide discomfort in the last few days were constant reminders that their time was quickly running out. This was the opportunity Emma had been waiting for. And she would not walk away.

Which is why she interrupted the hostage switch, happy to oblige Hades in safely rescuing Zelena, returning her freedom from the Cuff.

"Look, Gold. He ripped up the contract like you wanted, so leave," Emma said with annoyance in her tone, standing beside Hades — and trying to hide her discomfort at their close proximity.

"Since when does the Savior answer to the King of Death," Pan grumbled.

"Since he's the one getting my family home," Emma gritted in reply.

"You picked the wrong team to back, Miss Swan. You won't get what you want from him," Gold pointed out.

"Really? Because you just did. Which is making me wonder why you're still here."

"Good point," Gold relented, and with the wave of his hand, he left in a cloud of magic, leaving Pan behind.

"You tore up that contract for me," Zelena said with awe, crossing to Hades' side, her eyes glittering with love.

"I told you, would do anything for you," he promised.

"I think I'm getting that."

Zelena leaned in to kiss him, and the two lovers held each other, their lips pressed tight — and there was a sudden rush of light and magic, and even Emma was taken aback because she recognized it easily. True Love's Kiss.

Hades' heart began beating once more — and his punishment was ended. He was permitted to leave the Underworld.

"At the cemetery," his voice changed to low and serious. "There will be a fully formed portal back to Storybrooke," he promised, his eyes on Emma. "But it will close at sunset…"

"First thing's first. I held up my end of the deal. Now it's your turn," Emma said with a nod. "We're going home through that portal, too. All of us."

* * *

As promised, Hades removed the names from the tombstones. They were free to leave through the portal. But there had been one last speed bump on their road home — one that would cost them time. Time they didn't have.

Regina had split Emma's heart, but when she attempted to give half to Hook, to ensure that he could return from the Underworld, alive and well, the heart was rejected. Hades had explained that too much time had passed — and Regina tried to conceal her anger at that. All they'd done was waste time. And once again, it seemed that everything had been in vain.

"It would appear you have to return without me," Hook whispered in an effort to comfort Emma. But she was not having any of it. And no one else truly wanted to accept that answer, either. Because then this was all for nothing.

"You're telling me no one has ever come to the Underworld and brought someone back?" Emma asked, her tone demanding, challenging Hades to prove her wrong.

But when the god didn't answer immediately, Emma knew the truth. "They have."

"Who? Who did? How?" she asked, pressing him for more, grasping at straws.

"It was a long time ago," Hades explained. "And it was a rumor. There was no proof it actually worked…."

"Tell me everything," Emma begged.

* * *

"Orpheus and Eurydice," Regina sighed, holding the book open with one hand, the other beneath the table, concealing the fact that she was holding the side of her belly gently.

She hadn't left the Charming's apartment all day, at Robin's behest, but if she were honest with herself, she didn't want to. Her back had been aching all morning, and the pain was slowly pulsing downward, beginning to wrap around to her hips.

"I know this myth," Henry chirped happily. "She died and he followed her to the Underworld to get her back."

"Those are the only two souls who ever escaped my realm," Hades explained, standing at Zelena's side.

"But…how?" Snow asked, her eyes narrowed. "I thought you said that broke the laws of nature."

"Orpheus helped Eurydice escape by feeding her Ambrosia — the food of the gods," Hades replied.

"And where exactly do you get some of that? Because I don't recall seeing it on the menu at the Blind Witch's." Regina asked, leaning back in the chair, squirming slightly at the stiffness of the wood beneath her. Thinking to herself that she would only be able to stand a few minutes more of this, she was already resolving to move back to her favored arm chair, practically moaning in relief at the very thought of sinking down into the deep cushion.

With the flip of his wrist, Hades had brought them all to the Library — the elevator opening at his command.

Looking around to gain her bearings, Regina couldn't help rolling her eyes. There would be no arm chair in her immediate future, it seemed. But at least she wasn't sitting in that horrible wooden hip cradle of torture.

"An elevator? I'm the Savior, I've got magic," Emma protested, certain that she would be able to transport herself directly to wherever the Ambrosia was held.

"And I'm the Lord of the Underworld. That should tell you something. The Ambrosia — it's powerful — and like a petty, spoiled child, it wants all the power for itself. Everything else is shut down below. There's no popping in and out in a puff of smoke. This is the only way," Hades explained, gesturing to the clunky metal contraption. "And once you're down there, you're on your own."

"Then what? We're knee deep in a field of Ambrosia?" Emma asked. "How can it be that easy?"

"I'm not really sure. Even I've never ventured that far down," Hades admitted.

"So we're going to the one place in hell that even the devil is afraid to go," Hook grumbled.

"It's not hell, and he's not the devil," Zelena corrected the pirate, quick to defend her newfound, rekindled love.

"Not because I'm afraid," Hades explained. "There's a test to ensure that only those who are worthy of eating Ambrosia can reach it. And it will require offering up your heart for judgement.

"Without magic, how am I going to ta—" Emma asked, interrupted with a gasp by Hades' hand reaching into her chest and pulling her heart out in one single movement.

"You're not," he answered, placing the heart in a small pouch and handing it back to her. "My gift to you. As a thank you," he added, tucking in close to Zelena. "Take good care of it."

"Let's have that be the last time we do that today, alright?" Emma sighed, taking the pouch with wide eyes.

Turning over her shoulder, Emma spun on her heel to face Regina.

"Regina," she began — but the older woman cut her off.

"I know the drill," Regina said with a nod. "If you're not back by sunset…"

"Everybody leaves. Promise me," Emma begged.

"You'll be back," was all Regina said in reply.

"I love you, mom," Henry offered softly, his arms going around Emma, wishing her good luck.

As everyone said their short goodbyes, offering well wishes and promising to see them soon, Regina stepped back, reaching out to her side, grabbing hold of something — the back of a chair — to steady herself as the now-familiar pulse of cramping began at her back and wrapped down to her hips. And with a sigh, Regina watched as Emma and the pirate descended — praying that they would return quickly — or that this labor would take its time.

* * *

It had been over an hour, and there had been no sign of Hook and Emma's return. There wasn't even a sign that they had been successful. Unable to sit for more than a few minutes at a time, thanks to the recent addition of a constant pressure between her legs to the already irritating, pulsing ache in her back and belly, Regina was standing in front of the elevator, leaning in to see if she could hear any sound — any sign that they were on their way back.

"We can't just sit here doing nothing," Henry grumbled, pacing back and forth across the room.

"We don't have a choice, Henry," Regina breathed out — a little too heavily — and she sounded more angry than she intended. But everything was an irritation now, and she didn't understand why. As soon as she heard her own voice, heard the irritation in it, she let out a sigh and straightened her back, stepping away from the elevator.

"The minute Emma and Hook get off this elevator, we're going straight through that portal," she promised, hoping to offer a softer tone, hoping to ease the tension she'd created.

Robin came through the front door of the library, his eyes immediately on Regina — then narrowing, because there was something different in the way she was carrying herself. But then they darted to Zelena — and Hades at her side.

"What are they doing here," he asked, unable to bite back his instinctual anger.

"It's alright," Regina promised, making her way — quite slowly — to Robin's side. "They're actually helping us," she began to explain.

"I was just in the cemetery," he explained himself, holding up a chisel in one hand. "I found a way to get our names off the stones. But they were gone. And the clock tower —"

"It's alright," Regina promised, shaking her head, reaching her hands out to hold his arms, to soothe him. "Hades took the names off. And the clock tower… He's already working on opening a portal to get us home."

"Well, then…what are we still doing here?" he asked, his brow furrowing as he looked into Regina's dark eyes.

"He's got a point," Zelena agreed. "We could go to the cemetery now, go through — let them catch up," she pointed out, gesturing to the elevator doors.

"No. Not without Emma and Hook," David replied.

And while Regina might have disagreed otherwise, she nodded her head.

"He's right. We can't communicate with them. We should wait until they come up."

That was enough to appease him for the time being — because something in Regina's eyes told him that this was what was best. And maybe she couldn't be fully truthful here, in front of everyone. But he knew her well enough to trust her.

* * *

It was agreed that Hades and Zelena would go to the cemetery ahead of them, to watch over the portal, to keep track of how much time they had. Henry, for his part, had decided to spend the last few hours in the Underworld trying to write as many stories as he could, to help those left behind move on. He'd set up a table and chair just outside the Library, and in little time, a line had formed. So many souls waiting for the tools they needed — the information in their stories — to move on.

With the front door propped open, Regina could keep an eye — and ear — on him while he worked. And she was working, too.

Letting out a long, quiet breath through pursed lips, Regina's eyes were closed in concentration, her hips swaying gently without being conscious of it as she leaned against a table in the corner, her palms pressed firmly against the wood, arms supporting her.

"Regina," Robin spoke softly — and his voice startled her. She had been so lost in her own thoughts, so concentrated on the shifting of pressure in her belly, she hadn't heard him the first three times he said her name. Or the steps he'd taken towards her.

Gasping softly, her eyes shot open, and she stopped the motion of her hips, pushing back away from the table and offering a smile.

"Hey," she breathed out, choking on the word, not realizing how dry her throat had become.

" _Regina_ ," Robin said again, his brow furrowed — not in anger, not even in confusion, because he knew exactly what this was — but in deep and terrible fear.

"I'm…it's fine," Regina promised, shaking her head and offering a smile. "I'm fine. I just. I get tired. You know," she stammered — but the look in his eyes told her there was no use in hiding anything from him. He already knew.

"How long," he asked with urgency in his tone, and his hands were moving to her hips, holding her steady, and taking account of the fragility of it all.

"This morning," she confessed, and she could see the disappointment in his eyes, could hear it in the way he exhaled, could feel it in how he flinched, his muscles tensing.

"Regina," he whimpered, wishing she had told him sooner, wishing she had been honest, that she had given him warning — but he shook his head because no sooner was he wishing it was any other way, he realized there could not have been another way. She wouldn't leave her family, her son. She wouldn't leave — couldn't leave — without making things right. And he would have done the same.

"They're not too strong," she promised, her eyes filling with tears, begging him to forgive her — because she was so used to not being forgiven by anyone else. "They're not even regular—"

Robin silenced her with a kiss, leaning in and pulling her close and covering her mouth with his, their tongues dancing together — and then he was pulling back, his hands moving to cup the roundness of her belly — and he was kissing the tears away from her cheeks.

"We're having a baby," he whispered. And in that moment, it didn't matter that they were still here. It didn't matter that they had lost precious weeks of time at home, preparing for this moment. Nothing mattered. Nothing except her. And their child. And the fact that the portal was open — and they would be walking through it soon enough.

* * *

"UUuuuggh, that's right, vermin! Scatter!" Cruella's familiar voice pulled Regina from her current focus, and her eyes opened gently. She was hanging on Robin — one arm draped loosely around his neck, the other holding tightly to his forearm, her head pressed to the side against his chest. She took a few quick breaths as she pulled herself up, straightening her back and waddled with unquestionable fierceness towards the open front door.

She narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips, watching as the tall witch sauntered up to Henry's table. "I'm sorry, Cruella — but I don't think your unfinished business is going to take you to any place you'd like," Regina quipped, suddenly aware that she was sweating, the bright red light of the underworld sky glittering against her cheeks.

"No, I'm not here to collect my story. I want to stay in this marvelous realm," Cruella sang, thin lips pulling into a grin.

"You see…with Hades' departing, the Underworld is going to need a new ruler…"

" _You_ ," Snow laughed, shaking her head.

"It's the only upside to your daughter sentencing me to this fate. But, the job would be meaningless without a citizenry to torment," she growled through smiling teeth.

"Cruella, we're not going to let you harm these people," David said with confidence.

"Oh…you think I'm just going to keep them here?" Cruella asked with a wicked laugh. "Oh, no. I want to keep all of you here. It's only fair… considering it was your son who refused to write me back to life."

"I'm still waiting to hear how you're going to stop us from leaving," Regina taunted, her bark absolutely worse than her bite as she felt another wave of pressure beginning to build at her core. "Because all your magic can do is make a dog roll over and beg."

"True," Cruella hummed, knowingly, "I don't have the magic to keep you all penned in here…"

" _But I do_ ," the Blind Witch crooned, appearing at Cruella's side.

With the flick of her wrist, the witch flung the doors to the Library open wide, powerful magic flinging the row of heroes back with incredible force — then slamming the doors closed, their means of escape, gone.

The impact as they were thrown to the ground on their backs was felt keenly by all, but Regina let out a strangled yelp, writhing where she lay while everyone else scrambled to their feet. Robin was kneeling beside her in an instant, one hand clasped in hers, the other hovering over her belly, worry written over his face.

"Regina… _Regina_?" he asked anxiously, afraid to move her too quickly.

Letting out a strained grunt, Regina shook her head, her legs twisting to the side, a weak attempt at getting to her feet on her own.

Robin clasped both of her hands in his own, while Snow moved behind her. Together, and with great care, they lifted her back onto her feet — but Regina's knees were buckling again in an instant. She was clinging to Robin as though he were the only thing anchoring her to the ground, her free hand bracing the base of her belly as she breathed in and out heavily. Her face was pinched, twisting in obvious distress — but the only sound she made was a strangled, strained groan — then a heavy, exhaled moan — a quiet ' _pop_ ', and a gush of fluid dropping with a heavy splash from between her thighs to the floor.


	22. Chapter 22

The moment her waters had broken, Regina lurched forward, crying out weakly as she felt pressure — the head — moving lower still within her. Trembling, her knees were bending into the sensation and were it not for Robin and Snow holding her upright, she would have sunk down to the floor, buckling against the sudden shift.

"M-my…water. My water broke.." she stammered when she was able to catch her breath enough to spit out a few words — not that there had been any question in anyone's mind.

No sooner had she spoken, Regina was leaning forward once more, the sudden release of her water bringing with it a contraction crashing through her. This was different from the rest. She had been able to breathe through them — even the more difficult ones — most of the day, but this one was strangling. She flinched, bracing her hands against the tops of her thighs as Robin and Snow took firm hold of her arms, keeping her from sinking down. Unable to keep her voice low, to restrain herself and hide her pain as she so prided herself in doing all her life, Regina let out a tight and twisted groan. And when the pain had passed, Regina breathed in deeply, choking on the sudden rush of air to her lungs. And then she was panting softly, desperate to steady herself, blinking back tears as wobbling knees slowly straightened.

"Regina," Snow breathed out sympathetically, worried eyes shifting to Robin, briefly. Because she knew their time had just run out.

"Regina — sit," Robin cooed, still holding tightly to her, his wild eyes searching for a place to let her rest. But he felt her pull against him, and turning to look back at her, she was shaking her head.

"No. No, I can't," she protested. She could feel the heaviness of the head pressing against her, and the very thought of sitting over that pressure was making her stomach turn.

"Okay…okay," Snow soothed, seeing the distress in Regina's eyes. She gently rubbed her back, glancing back towards the elevator doors — still closed. Still no sign of Hook and Emma returning.

"We need to get her to the portal," Snow concluded quickly, giving a sharp nod to Robin.

"No," Regina groaned softly, shaking her head once more. "My magic —" she hummed, turning to look into Snow's eyes, dark pools meeting with teary hazels.

Regina had felt the comforting, familiar tingle of her magic slowly dissolving since that morning. It seemed that with each slow-growing contraction, more and more left her — temporarily suspended for one reason or another. And Regina hadn't minded, happy to focus instead on the impending birth of her child — but now, it was proving to be an issue.

And Snow knew by the frightened look in Regina's eyes that her magic was gone — likely affected by her current distress.

"I can't walk that far," Regina whimpered, refusing to let her tears fall, refusing to allow herself to show any more weakness — for now, at least.

"Okay," Snow agreed, her hand continuing its soothing path between Regina's shoulders. "Okay."

* * *

Contractions were coming regularly now, and with each surge, they seemed to grow in intensity. Regina paced slowly around the room in between, her large belly cradled in her hands. It was easy to tell when another pain was coming. Regina's steps would slow, then stop. She would lean forward into Robin's waiting arms, pressing her forehead against the center of his chest and moaning low, and deep.

Snow's eyes were locked on Regina, her gaze unmoving since her water had broken an hour ago. Robin stared at the top of Regina's head where she rested against him, whispering tender encouragements, kissing her silky dark hair.

Henry resisted the urge to go to her for comfort, though it went against his every instinct. Whenever he had been afraid, it was Regina's arms that had wrapped him up tight. It was Regina's soft, whispered words that soothed away every worry. It was Regina's warmth that promised everything would be alright. But not this time.

David was pacing in front of the elevator doors, his arms crossed, nervously glancing upwards every few seconds, jumping at every sound.

"I need Emma," Regina groaned, lifting herself from Robin's chest as her contracted ebbed away. "We need Emma. We have to get out of here. We have to get home…"

There was a sudden and unsettling urgency in her tone that had everyone perking up.

"Regina?" Snow asked, standing and crossing the room swiftly to go to her side. "What's going on," she pressed, seeing sudden worry flash in the older woman's eyes.

Regina only shook her head. "I have to get her home."

And Snow nodded. She understood. She meant her daughter.

* * *

In the depths of the Underworld, Emma's heart had been proven worthy — after a perilous test. But when the heavy doors had opened, the pair stepping through, they were greeted by a dead and withered stump. The Ambrosia was dead. It had been a trap, a waste of time and an immense distraction.

"Why?" Emma asked in a breath, her mind reeling, realizing she had just left her family unprotected above, a thousand scenarios playing over, all with one thing in common — they were in danger.

"Why lie to us," she pressed, looking into Hook's eyes, knowing instinctively that this was Hades' doing. "Why send us after dead fruit…"

The realization hit Hook and made his stomach turn. "Because he doesn't want us coming with him to Storybrooke."

* * *

"Regina…Regina, _breathe_ ," Snow encouraged, her voice growing louder to combat Regina's rising cries. The dark haired woman was hunched forward, Robin's arms the only thing keeping her from sinking down. She was panting — but each short breath was now being punctuated by a soft grunt. Snow could hear the effort behind it, and she felt her heart sink in her chest.

"Hey…hey," she cooed, moving around to Regina's front, crouching down to her eye-level. "Blow," she said with a nod. "Blow…like a candle," she hummed.

And Regina tried, helplessly mimicking what Snow was doing — but she knew she couldn't fight her body for much longer. Her eyes were filled with tears as she nodded her head, and she had never been more grateful for Snow's presence before in her life.

* * *

The doors to the elevator opened as Regina let out a long, strained cry. Emma's eyes were wide, all thoughts of the pirate she'd had to leave behind pushed aside as she rushed out towards Regina.

"What the hell," Emma asked in a breath, unable to hide the worry in her eyes.

"Where's Hook?" Snow asked, turning over her shoulder from where she was helping Robin to keep Regina upright. Her daughter was alone, and distraught — and she knew the answer before the answer was given.

Emma only shook her head. "I'll explain later," she promised, and her eyes were locked on the dark haired woman. "Let's go."

"We can't," Snow explained, shaking her head. The Blind Witch cast a spell, trapping us here. Her magic —"

But the princess' words were cut off as Regina cried out again, reminding them all that the contractions were one on top of the other now.

Gritting her teeth, Regina adjusted her hold around Robin's neck, stepping her feet apart slightly, her head dipping forward in obvious effort. Her tone changed. She let out a low grunt, holding it in her throat and releasing with a heavy breath.

"No, no, no…" Snow panicked, wrapping herself around Regina's back. "No, _Regina_ …Regina, _don't_ push. Don't push," she begged.

"I can't…I can't," Regina panted nervously — because she could feel how close the baby was, how with every contraction, she was pressing down a little lower, how her muscles begged to push down, how her body was completely out of her control.

"We have to go. Now." Snow demanded, and she didn't stop to dwell on the fleeting thought that they should really have gone hours ago. Weeks ago.

Emma nodded her head and flung her magic towards the doors of the library, forcing them open and lifting the spell the Blind Witch had cast. A second wave of her hand took everyone from the Library to the cemetery, the portal inches away.

"Get her through!" Emma shouted with urgency, waving Robin and Snow over, watching helplessly as Regina hung between them, limp and weary. "It's starting to close — hurry!"

Regina took in a deep breath and steeled herself against the intense pressure building between her legs. She leaned into Robin and Snow, and with fiery determination, she stepped through, her form dissolving into the crackling red magic.

Henry was next, then David. And Emma turned to look out at the Underworld — and all she was leaving behind. She held back a choked sob, turning, and disappearing through the portal, back home — without him.

* * *

The other side of the portal led out into Main Street for Emma, Henry and the Charmings. But as they reappeared, Regina's absence was keenly noticed. Snow's arms were still bent as they had been over her stepmother's back, but now they were empty.

"What the hell — where is she?!" Emma asked frantically, turning from one direction to the other. This was one scenario she hadn't imagined. But the outcome was the same — danger.

* * *

Regina and Robin appeared in the Mayor's office, and Regina let out a sigh of relief at the familiarity. At least she could ensure this place was clean — immaculate, even. Reaching forward to hold to the back of a chair at the long table, Regina let out a breath, letting Robin's hand move to her lower back, pressing in, kneading against the pain. Only then did she notice that Snow was no longer with her, no longer offering her the comfort of having gone through this twice — and successfully. And as Regina began to grow more and more aware of her surroundings, she realized they were not alone in her office.

"Welcome back," Hades said with a grin. "Didn't think you'd make it. You heroes are so annoying that way," he whispered angrily. "Can't seem to keep you down."

Robin grew tense, turning to face the god, ready and rearing to charge with everything he had. But he felt Regina shift, turning back to watch as she sunk down slowly, moving to her hands and knees as she let out a long and desperate cry.

"You stay away from her," Robin growled, putting himself in front of Regina where she was now crouched on the ground.

"Mmm…I don't think I can do that. You see — she has something that doesn't belong to her…" Hades countered, slowly stepping forward. And there was something in his hand.

A long, double edged wand of crystal was held firmly in the god's right hand, and as he stepped closer, he was already raising it up.

"Hades, stop. This isn't worth it," Robin tried to negotiate. "If you do this, you will lose Zelena. You will lose her trust. This is her sister," he reminded the god angrily.

"Shhhh…." Hades whispered, his smile only growing. "Only if she knows about it. And this," he hummed, lifting the crystal just a bit higher. "This will make sure that she doesn't. This will remove all memory of Regina — from everyone's mind. It will be as if she never existed. She won't even been a faint flicker," he laughed. "And Zelena — Zelena will inherit this town. And we will rule, side by side…with our child, together."

"I won't let you touch her," Robin gritted, his heart sinking when he heard Regina cry out again, her breaths growing deep and desperate.

"This is what you get for trying to turn Zelena against me," Hades roared, and the crystal was charged with crackling blue magic, the look in his eyes wild, deranged.

"What are you doing!?" Zelena asked, bursting suddenly into the room. She glanced quickly from Hades to the weapon he was wielding — to her sister, writhing in pain. "What's going on? What are you doing to her?" she plead desperately.

Hades was caught. And he knew it. And short of erasing Zelena's memory, there was no way out of this but to try and explain it away.

"She was going to keep your child from you," he argued, hoping that it would be enough.

It wasn't.

"No. No, you're wrong….she wouldn't," Zelena said softly, shaking her head.

"She was going to take your child, and send you back to OZ alone, banishing you from this place forever. I'm going to make sure she can never hurt us again — I'm going to make sure this town belongs to us, forever."

Zelena flinched at that.

"Us. I thought you wanted this for _me_. What use do you have for power here?" Zelena asked, although his motives were beginning to shine through clearly.

"You, Zelena. For you. All of this is for _you_."

"If it was for me, you wouldn't be doing _this_ ," she argued — and she could see the god for who we was now.

With the wave of her hand, Zelena sent Regina and Robin out of the room, leaving her and Hades to end this war once and for all.

* * *

Appearing in her vault, Regina felt her stomach turn at the transportation — too much in too little space of time. But nausea was the least of her woes.

Robin moved beside her where she was crouched on hands and knees on the ground, his hands moving over her, trying desperately to soothe her. Regina blanched and shook her head, pushing him away.

"Get…get these off," she grunted softly, gesturing to Snow's riding pants. "She's right there…" They were damp from her water, and too tight and clinging too close — and even as Robin began to help remove them, he could see through the thin fabric that there was a distinct bulge between her thighs.

"Gods," Robin breathed out, his eyes wide as he rolled her pants down, the top of the head clearly visible. His hand instinctively moving to cup against the emerging crown — but Regina hissed and pulled back from his touch, and he recoiled quickly.

She was a Queen, and she was on her knees, bare from the waist down, panting and whimpering like a wounded animal. And a year ago, she would have hated herself for being so weak. But in this moment, she was sure she had never felt stronger.

"I feel like I'm splitting apart!" Regina screeched, her whole body succumbing to tremors as she struggled to breathe through the pain — the sudden feel of being on fire, of burning from the inside out was overwhelming her.

"It's her head —" Robin promised, kneeling behind her, his hand hovering just below the emerging dome. "It's alright, Regina," he promised — and he hoped that was true. "Breathe. _Breathe_."

Regina closed her eyes and began to pant. Tears fell as she immediately thought of Snow White — in the Library — of her face, and of the way she'd instructed her to pant. And Regina was mimicking her again, keeping her eyes closed — because as long as they remained shut, she could see Snow clearly.

"Good! _Good_!" Robin cheered with a breathy laugh, watching as the orb grew larger and larger, slowly blooming between Regina's legs — a wrinkled forehead, then a nose, lips, and then a chin.

Regina let out a cry, then a heavy sigh of relief as she felt the head slip out — and instinctively, she was looking over her shoulder, frightened eyes searching Robin's face. "She okay?" she asked breathily.

Robin reached forward, fingertips delicately moving over the baby's head, searching for any sign that it was — or was not — safe to proceed.

"She's good….she's…she's _perfect_ ," he laughed, sniffling unashamedly, blinking away his falling tears.

* * *

Snow was running ahead, leading the way, her heart pounding — Regina needed her, and she would not let her down — but as soon as Town Hall was in view, Snow knew that something was terribly wrong. There was a bright flash of blue seen easily from the upper story, and she stopped in her tracks. "Regina's office," she breathed out, feeling sick to her stomach.

Emma was right behind her, her eyes flicking up to Regina's office windows. David and Henry were already charging ahead, ready to take on whatever force wished harm on one of their own — because Regina was one of their own. She was family.

Snow lurched forward, ready to rush in behind them — but Emma was holding her arm, holding her back. "Emma, she needs us!" Snow demanded, turning over her shoulder. But Emma was already using her magic, bringing them to Regina's vault — because when there was danger, Regina would always feel protected there.

* * *

Regina's cries could be heard even outside the vault's doors, and Emma and Snow took off, rushing to push the sarcophagus aside, descending quickly, Regina's voice growing louder, still.

"Regina!?" Snow called out, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of her stepmother — a woman she had only known to be strong and powerful, a force to be reckoned with — shivering, shaking, her skin pale and eyes dark and sunken. Her hair was matted against her temples, sticking to the sides of her neck.

"Snow," Regina croaked out weakly, her eyes lifting to watch the younger woman cross the room — but even in her obvious distress, Snow's presence was giving her hope.

"She's stuck," she whimpered, Regina's eyes brimming with tears, her body already tensing, another contraction pulsing through her.

Still on her hands and knees, Robin crouched behind her, cradling the baby's head, the distress in both their faces was obvious. As Regina lowered her head again, muscles braced and limbs shaking as she cried out — pushing down hard against the pressure — Robin's eyes were on Snow, begging her to help — to save them both.

"The head's out," Robin explained nervously. "She's just not coming down…"

Snow nodded, and moved her hand to Regina's back, resting between her shoulders. Regina whimpered at the touch. Snow's hand was warm and soft and in stark contrast against her cold, clammy skin.

"Alright. Regina — we're going to try a different position," Snow cooed, and she was looking over at Robin, gesturing for him to move to the front of her. "You let me know when the contraction ends," she hummed, her voice low and soothing.

Regina nodded, humming through the deep, pulsing pain, her throat raw as she growled through the worst of it, her body bearing down hard. When it ended, Regina let out a breath, her head rolling forward on her shoulders, weary arms bending to rest.

"Okay. Ready?" Snow asked — and she didn't wait for an answer. In one motion, though it was slow and careful, Snow was guiding Regina off of her knees, pulling her back against her own chest. Snow's arms hooked under Regina's, holding her steady as she relaxed into a squat, while Robin knelt between Regina's open knees.

"Good. Good job. Just catch your breath. Just rest a moment. We'll push when the next one comes….together," Snow cooed.

Regina groaned as she was moved, despising the younger woman and regretting ever having wished she was here. But as soon as she was settled into position, Regina let out a deep sigh, her eyes rolling back until they closed, sinking back heavily against Snow's chest. Her hands moved to rest back against Snow's upper arms, and Regina finally allowed her tears to fall — slow and quiet, rolling against her cheeks. Snow was soft behind her, and Regina found comfort in the tender, maternal embrace she found herself in.

The Queen smiled weakly, imagining what her reaction would be, if she could tell her younger self about this moment.

The peace that had settled deep in Regina's core remained, even when the next contraction began. She was lifting herself slightly, pressing into the effort — and Snow was with her, holding her up, giving her strength.

"She's…she's turning!" Robin shouted happily, beaming as the small head began to rotate between Regina's legs.

Regina let out a breathy laugh then, and leaned further into the push, gritting her teeth and growling low in her throat, letting the air out of her lungs in a roar as the shoulders emerged.

"Shoulders! Shoulders are out," Robin said with elation and relief, his eyes flicking up to take in the sight of his love, of the strength she had, of the impossible beauty of her.

"Okay, Regina… just a little more," Snow cooed, encouraging her to remain strong. "You're almost there. She's almost here," she hummed.

But Regina was already leaning in, already bearing down, the veins in her neck and forehead plumping outward as she cried out for the last time — then fell back heavily against Snow's chest, her breaths deep and desperate.

Robin caught the baby in eagerly waiting arms, letting out the happy laugh of a proud papa. He quickly brought his discarded jacked up and over the baby, pushing her up and onto Regina's chest.

Regina was shaking, her body exhausted, drained. Snow was slowly guiding her down until she was sitting, wrapping her own coat around Regina's shoulders. But despite the flurry of activity — there was an eerie silence in the room.

"Robin…Robin," Regina whimpered frantically, rubbing the baby's back. "Robin, she's not — she's not crying…"

In a single moment, Regina's world was crashing down around her. She felt her heart break, and wondered why she ever imagined this would go any differently. Her life knew little happiness — everything she had ever loved had been ripped from her eventually. And perhaps she had spent too long in the Underworld after all. Hades had called it a place of decay. Nothing grew there, nothing thrived. And maybe this little girl never really stood a chance. Maybe none of them did.

Sobbing, Regina kept her eyes on the small babe against her chest, everything else around her melting away, wondering how she would ever be able to face Robin again — because this child was his, and she had lost it.

Snow reached over around Regina's shoulder and began rubbing the baby's back in quick, rapid successions, pinching gently along tiny thighs. Then a little harder — and harder still — and —

And then a long, loud, healthy wail. The little girl went red in the face, squealing, fingers and toes splaying, flailing.

And then Regina and Robin were crying. And then Snow was, too.

* * *

The cord had been cut, and both Regina and the baby were wrapped snugly in blankets and offered coats — most obviously, the hint of red leather peeking out in between layers of Robin's deep green tweeds. Emma had left to share the news with her father and Henry, and Robin had stepped out to source more blankets and a handful of diapers to get them through until they could be moved — magically or otherwise.

Alone in the vault with Snow, Regina was delirious with love, her dark eyes fixed on the pink bundle in her arms. When the baby began to stir, clearly rooting for its first meal, it was Snow who gently encouraged Regina, offering help — and then backed off to allow Regina to cling to what modesty she needed to remain between them. With the exception of the quiet suckling at Regina's breast, the Vault was still, and silent — and peaceful.

Looking up when Snow moved close once more, laying a third blanket over Regina's legs without waiting to be asked, Regina smiled fully, tenderly.

"How did you know what to do," Regina asked, her voice still quite hoarse.

Snow let out a sigh, and crossed her legs, sitting tucked close to Regina and her daughter. "Actually…we have Zelena to thank for that," she explained with a knowing smile.

"Zelena," Regina asked, her brow lifting quizzically.

"She…" Snow began, clearing her throat and fighting the blush she knew was filling her cheeks. "Well. She…had me watch quite a few videos when…. when she was my…. midwife."

Regina laughed through her nose, letting it crinkle as she fell into a fit of soft giggles, grinning when she heard Snow's laughter joining her.

* * *

Robin and Regina took the next several days to close themselves away from the goings-on in Storybrooke, quite content to simply be with each other and their children, to learn the new ins and outs of family life with a newborn in the home. Snow visited in the afternoons, allowing Regina and Robin the opportunity to sleep, while letting David take Henry and Roland out for long lunches. And it was Snow who informed them that Zelena had killed Hades, that his threats were ended once and for all. They were grateful that those horrors were behind them, but if they were at all honest with themselves, they would admit they were hard pressed to care for anything but the beautiful bright life that had come from so much darkness.

* * *

Standing by the window, sunlight pooling into the room, Regina swayed gently, rocking her daughter against her shoulder. Her own mother had never sung much to her as an infant, so she had resolved to use one of Henry's current favorites as a lullaby — "Only You."

The familiar creak in the floorboard by the door alerted her to his presence — but she did not stop singing, nor swaying, her lips brushing gently over the top of their daughter's head, grinning against the dark, downy hairs. Her smile only grew when she felt his arms move around her, pulling her in against himself. His rhythm joined hers, and together they rocked gently, stopping only when Regina heard the tell-tale deep exhales of her infant daughter — she was fast asleep.

Pulling back tenderly from Robin's embrace, she waltzed towards the cradle he had carved and carefully laid the baby girl on her back, stepping away quietly, but never taking her eyes away from the perfect sight.

His arms were moving around her again, but this time, he was spinning her in his embrace until they were face to face. His hands planted themselves lovingly against her lower back, while Regina's were slinking around to his shoulders — and they were both still swaying.

Leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Regina's dark hair, Robin tucked his chin over top of her head, holding her tenderly as they danced to the music in their hearts. "We've literally been to hell and back," he hummed.

Regina laughed — because he was correct, in more ways than one, and because when he made jokes like that, Henry would often roll his eyes and call it "dad humor".

"We have," Regina hummed in agreement.

"I don't think I would change a thing," Robin cooed in confession after several minutes of silence passed between them.

"Laurel is lucky to have a mother as strong as you," he promised, and the baby stirred in her cradle at the mention of her name.

Regina was silent — because she had never really been able to accept strength in herself. Stubbornness, yes. Resilience, yes. But strength had always seemed too positive a quality for her — until her family had shown her otherwise.

"We've been to hell and back," Robin said again — and Regina was about to pull back, to tease him for growing repetitive after only a few days of sleep deprivation. But before she could speak — "and I can't think of anyone I would rather have gone with. Marry me, Regina," he whispered softly against the top of her head. "My Queen."

And he was pulling back, and looking into her eyes, his smile growing.


End file.
